
fj #> ^Rf? 7 / 



T^ oco <E£r^§e oe< 



The Home Circle. 



4 






A^ S. P^ 




FRIENDS' BOOK ASSOCIATION, 

706 ARCH ST., 

PHILADELPHIA. 

1875. 




2 
14 

47 






PREFACE. 



COME readers of "The Home Circle " will 
recognize the first part, published more 
than thirty years ago under the title of the 
"Friend's Family." 

Enquiries addressed to me having reference 
to the manner in which Rebecca Stewart spent 
the money, given to her by her father for the 
benefit of Sally Davis, I am pleased to be able 
to answer them, and also to give a few partic- 
ulars with regard to the marriage of Mary 
Stewart, which occurred the next spring. 

A. S. P. 



The Home Circle. 



CHAPTER I. 

HOME LIFE. 

THE room was a large, old-fashioned looking 
place, with many doors opening into it. 
Some were closet-doors ; one led into the entry 
which communicated with the "best end" of the 
house, one opened upon the porch or piazza, one into 
a passage leading to the kitchen, and one to a stair- 
way, the space under which made a snug closet for 
the children, where they put all the articles specially 
belonging to them, that were in daily use. If you 
opened this closet, you might at once see that it 
was owned by a large family ; here were slates, books, 
work-boxes, and blocks, neatly placed upon a low 
shelf, while on the floor below were ranged in a row 
more than half a dozen pairs of little boots and shoes, 
with strings or buttons in order, just ready for the 
wearers to put on ; and there was not a muddy pair 
among them. 
A large old-fashioned settee occupied the west 

5 



6 The Home Circle. 

side of the room ; it was placed between two win- 
dows ; and here, when any slight ailment occurred, 
the children were accustomed to having a little bed, 
with soft pillows and a coverlet to match, brought 
down-stairs, so that they might lie where they could 
be near the mother, and see what she was doing. 
No music ever sounded sweeter to their ears than 
mother's favorite hymn — written by Dr. Watts: 

"Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber, 
Holy angels guard thy bed; 
Heavenly blessings without number 
Gently fall upon thy head." 

Is it not a sweet hymn ? Sweetly it sounded to the 
sick child when chanted by the soft low voice of its 
affectionate mother. It was almost worth while to 
be just a little sick that one might be coddled and 
made much of, particularly when one had no dis- 
agreeable medicines to take. The mother's remedies 
were very simple — for a feverish cold she gave the 
little one plenty of lemonade ; and if accompanied 
by sore throat, she gave little pellets of ice, just as 
much as they liked ; if they coughed a great deal, 
she gave boiled molasses with butter and vinegar in 
it ; and if they complained of headache, she gave 
them nothing to eat until they were hungry enough 
to relish "cambric tea" with bread, and butter. 
She depended a good deal upon keeping her children 
quiet and warm, which generally answered ; but if 
one was really ill, she sent for Dr. T., in whom she 



The Home Circle. 7 

had confidence as a good man, and she obeyed his 
directions as nearly as she could. The children were 
all very fond of Dr. T. and welcomed his kindly 
face. 

I must not forget to tell you of another closet, 
where there were always crackers or bread for the 
children to eat, and where sometimes, by way of a 
treat, they found excellent gingerbread, such as sister 
Mary knew how to make, so that the small people 
all liked it. Nor must I forget to tell you who 
lived in this house. 

The owner was named Thomas Ellwood Stewart ; 
he was called Thomas Ellwood after a Friend who 
lived many years ago, at the same time with William 
Penn, from whom our State derived its name. 

The people of the neighborhood generally called 
him " Mr. Stewart," but as I am a Friend, I must 
call him Ellwood Stewart ; not that I mean to be 
disrespectful, but " Friends " think we ought not to 
say "Master" to any one, because we read in the 
Bible that we should not call any man our Master, 
and as "Mr." is merely a corruption of Master, 
" Friends " do not feel free to use the term. 

Ellwood Stewart's wife was named Mary, and his 
eldest daughter was called by that sweet name, which 
almost every one loves — partly because it is asso- 
ciated with the mother of Jesus, and partly because 
it has a pleasant sound. 

At the time my story opens, Ellwood 's daughter 
Mary was about twenty-two years of age, and after 



8 The Home Circle, 

her followed a long line of brothers and sisters, 
Robert, William, Sarah, Henry, Rebecca, Jane, 
Elizabeth, Martha, and little two-year old Ellwood. 

Robert and William were away from home ; the 
former studying medicine in Philadelphia, and the 
latter a clerk in his uncle's store. Sarah and Henry 
were at Westtown School, and it was to the five 
younger children that all the slates, books, work- 
boxes and shoes in the closet belonged. It was a 
delightful Seventh-day afternoon in the ninth month, 
and the children had some of their cousins with 
them, all playing in the yard. There were a num- 
ber of fine old trees on the lawn before the house, 
and every boy or girl stood with his or her back 
against one of these trees, excepting one, whom they 
called " Pussy/ ' This one went around begging, 
" Poor Pussy wants a corner," " Poor Pussy wants a 
corner," and always received the same answer, "Go 
to the next neighbor. ' ' In the meantime the chil- 
dren at the trees were exchanging places with each 
other as rapidly as possible. If " Pussy " could get 
to a vacant tree before the rightful owner, she was 
entitled to it, while the one to whom it belonged 
went begging in the same way, until she was dexter- 
ous enough to slip into the place of some one else. 
It is a very pleasant and healthful exercise when 
played with spirit and good humor. 

They were in sight from the door, and the air was 
ringing with their merry shouts and joyous laughter, 
when the mother and her eldest daughter brought 



The Home Circle. 9 

their work to sit an hour or two together on the 
open piazza. 

Very precious to both of these was the time they 
spent together as companions, for they did not ex- 
pect to be inhabitants of the same house long : the 
daughter was about to take new duties, new hopes, 
new pleasures and new cares upon herself, and though 
it was, of course, her choice to do so, and though she 
was not going far away, yet her heart clung to the 
tender mother under whose sheltering love her life 
had been so happy. She longed to do more for, and 
to be more to her mother in return for her loving- 
kindness ; and the more she loved the one to whom 
she w r as going, the more she loved those whom she 
was leaving. She looked at, and listened to the 
children until her eyes filled with tears, then turning 
to her mother, said : " Mother, I feel as if I had not 
been all that an elder sister ought to be, to those 
dear children. I have not always been patient 
enough with them. I do not think I have been 
instructive either by precept or example. Ah, mo- 
ther dear, what can I do to help thee with them 
now?" 

" Dear daughter," said the mother, "thou hast 
helped me, and I shall always miss thee, and thou 
must not suppose I shall try to do without thee, 
although thou art about entering a sphere of more 
usefulness, and I trust, of increased happiness. Yes, 
dear, I shall miss thee more than I can say, yet I am 
glad to have thee marry such an excellent man as 



io The Home Circle. 

our friend is. It would be a short-sighted selfish- 
ness that would always keep thee by my side." 

The tears would come into Mary's eyes, as her 
mother spake, and both were quiet for a few minutes. 
When the mother spake again, she said: "Thou 
wilt not leave us until spring, my dear child, and 
perhaps will find time to execute a work that I should 
have liked to have commenced years ago. Our neigh- 
borhood is not one of Friends, and the children see 
and hear much to counteract home impressions. I 
do not wish to isolate them, but would like to have 
some employment for the winter evenings, which 
might be combined with their religious instruction. 
We have a great many books ; some of the old jour- 
nals are very interesting, or at least would be if they 
were not written in such an old-fashioned style, that 
few children care to read them. Besides this, there 
are so many cruel and hard things mentioned, that I 
would rather not familiarize their minds with the de- 
tails of such sufferings as our early Friends endured. 
At their tender age, it is likely to create a hardness 
of heart towards the members of the other sects 
who persecuted ours with unrelenting bigotry. 
Wilt thou be willing to sketch a character occa- 
sionally from these works ? thou hast read them so 
frequently, that thou wilt be at no loss in finding all 
that relates to any one particular character, and I 
think thou canst make it attractive. At any rate we 
will present the children with truths illustrating the 
peculiar views of our Society. ' - 



The Home Circle. ii 

Mary's face brightened, and grasping at once the 
idea, she replied : " Yes, I should like to sketch the 
characters, though I fancy I cannot improve much 
on the style of dear old Sewell, who is my favorite 
among them all. He is charming to me, but I know- 
there is a great deal in his books that it is just as well 
the children should not read yet. There are many 
characters which they are fully capable of compre- 
hending. Even Martha can understand that of 
James Parnell, that poor boy who suffered and died 
for his conscience' sake before he w r as as old as our 
William. When I read those books, and learn how 
Friends were beaten, imprisoned, fined and punished 
in the many ways invented by malice, and think 
how 'we sit at ease in our possessions,' I feel that 
we do not know or value rightly our own standing. 
Many of us do that which is pleasing in the eyes of 
the world, because we do not like to bear the cross 
which makes us singular. 

" It is honorable now to bear the name of ' Friend,' 
and yet I know that we sometimes shun the cross of 
our profession, more than when every opprobrious 
epithet was cast upon us. I like to be called a 
'Friend,' but I can hardly bear to be called a 
'Quaker,' though I know it really makes no dif- 
ference." 

"Yes, dear, it does make a difference," replied 
her mother. "'Quaker' was originally applied as 
a term of disparagement, and we have never quite 
reconciled ourselves to it. It is just one of the little 



12 



The Home Circle. 



daily crosses, not much in itself, perhaps, but if 
patiently borne, helping us to other things." 

" Oh," said Mary, tftf if I may call it a cross — and 
it certainly is a cross to my pride — I can use a little 
resolution and learn to bear it, and watch myself 
still more,, that I may not inflict crosses upon 
others." 




CHAPTER II. 

IN-DOOR AMUSEMENT. 

THE fall of the year is beautiful, and one bright 
Seventh-day after another came and passed, 
until Martha became persuaded in her own mind 
that all Seventh-days must be glad and sunshiny. 
The older children went to school, but she was 
almost too young for the long walk to the school-house 
which stood on the far edge of the woods — so that 
Elly and she were thrown together as playmates, and 
he was a never-ending source of amusement. He 
was not quite two years old, and just learning to 
lisp the words his little sister was so proud to teach 
him. 

The grounds around the house were entirely safe, 
and as the children piled the fallen leaves of the 
maple, or drew down the long pliant branches of 
the willow for whips, or went down into the field to 
the old chestnut tree, they felt, though they could 
not express themselves, that existence was a great 
delight. They used to watch the great flocks of 
blackbirds which were preparing to go to another 
country — how they chattered and called and started 
off to try the wings of the young ones ; how they 
2 13 



14 The Home Circle. 

circled, and wheeled around, and came back to the 
same tree again ; and how, making a fresh start 
and flying right overhead, they spread out, and on 
and on, until their number seemed immense. Some- 
times the whole flock would settle upon the ground, 
hundreds upon hundreds, and before Elly and Mar- 
tha got near them, they would rise with a loud 
whirr, and fly away, away out of sight. 

And the plays near home. Elly never tired of 
driving a horse ; before he was a year old, he used 
to put out his fat dimpled hand to take the reins ; 
and if allowed to do so, would look as sober as a 
judge, and try to make a sound, clck, clck, like his 
father, to make Old Grey go faster. Martha used 
to indulge him by putting a string around her 
waist, and giving him the ends to hold, while she 
ran around the yard, pretending to be his horse. 
Sometimes he would insist upon driving through 
the house, but on his sister representing that 
horses did not open doors nor go into people's 
houses, he generally saw the reasonableness of keep- 
ing out. 

One day she attempted to put an old hat, which 
had belonged to her brother Robert, on his head ; 
but it would slip down and bury his head and neck. 
She pulled it up and placed it farther back, to no 
purpose, for the least movement of the little wriggler 
let it down to rest on his shoulders. Elly stood 
patiently for a time, but finding his sister's efforts 
in vain, he said, "Nail, nail." The little fellow 



The Home' Circle. 15 

could say but one word at a time, and as he had 
seen that a board could be kept in its place by nail- 
ing, he thought the best plan of keeping the hat on 
his head would be to nail it there. 

These bright days drew near their close, the dusk 
came sooner and sooner, until the weather was so 
cold that nearly all the birds flew away to a warmer 
climate : there was one, with bright red back and 
wings, that was not willing to leave his old home 
in a thick evergreen where the close leaves kept all 
' the snow away from him. In the evening, about 
sunset, he would perch upon a post in front of the 
house, and there wait for his supper to be thrown 
out, then hop down, pick up the crumbs and fly off 
to his own snug little nest. The children never saw 
him in the winter-time, except about sunset, and 
then they watched. How pretty he was in his scarlet 
coat, when the snow was on the ground ! 

Now came a long spell of rainy weather, and after 
their unrestrained liberty, the little ones scarcely 
knew what to do with themselves. Elly tied two or 
three seats in front of an old arm-chair, into which 
he stepped by means of a stool, and drove his team 
for an hour or two at a time, greatly to his satis- 
faction ; but Martha was too big to enjoy such a 
vehicle: she was " six years old last birth-day, and 
going to be seven when the pears are ripe." Her 
active, energetic disposition made her very impatient 
of this in-door life, and she came to her mother's side 
to ask, "Oh ! mother, what shall I do?" 



16 The Home Circle. 

" Does not Dolly want a new apron ? ' ' said mother. 

u No, indeed, mother ; she has a clean one on, and 
I made another this morning.' ' 

"What was thee doing, just now?" asked the 
mother. 

" I was playing with Elly and Lizzy; and as fast 
as ever I build up a house, Elly knocks it down ; 
and he rubs out everything I draw on the slate ; and 
Lizzy won't let me touch any of her things. Oh ! 
mother, she is making a lovely bonnet for her 
Nancy; if I could make bonnets like Lizzy, Dolly 
should have one too, but Lizzy won't let me have a 
single thing. I guess she don't love me." 

"Oh, yes, she does," her mother said, "but per- 
haps thee disturbs Lizzy's things as Elly did thine ; 
but I think I can find something pleasant for us all. 
As play does not suit, suppose we try work. Last 
evening, after my little girl went to bed, sister Mary 
prepared a pretty patch, ready for her to sew. It is 
made of Elly's pink dress, and that green one of 
thine thee likes so well : it is in the work-box, which 
I think thee has not opened to-day. Bring that and 
thy chair." 

Martha obeyed ; but her countenance showed that 
she did not think it any great relief to be obliged 
to sew, though she dearly liked to sit by her mother. 
But when her mother said, "Go and ask father if 
he will read to us," she brightened up wonderfully, 
and going to her father's side, stood quietly by him 
for a minute, perhaps, before he observed her; 



The Home Circle. 17 

when, turning his kind face, he asked : " What shall 
I do for my little daughter ? ' ' 

" Mother said I might ask thee to read to us." 

" Did mother send thee? Well, then, I am ready 
to do so ; " and putting up his paper, he came over 
to his wife and asked what she would like him to 
read. Mary, in obedience to her mother's look, had 
already gone for her manuscript, which she handed 
to him with a blush and a smile. He settled him- 
self in his comfortable arm-chair, and read the title : 
"Sketch of the Life of Thomas Ellwood." 

"Oh, father," said Martha, eagerly, "that is 
about thee, isn't it? does it tell what thee did when 
thee was a little boy ? Shall I tell Lizzy to come ? 
May I tell them all ? Father, what did thee do on 
rainy days, when thee couldn't go out? — " 

"Stop, stop, little girl; don't ask so many ques- 
tions all in a breath. No, it is not about me, but 
about the man after whom I was named ; that is, I 
was called Thomas Ellwood because he was called 
Thomas Ellwood." 

" Oh, yes ! father, I know; for I was called Mar- 
tha because dear grandmother Stewart's name was 
Martha ; and Jane w r as called Jane after grandmother 
Bruce." 

"Yes, that is the way," said the father, "and 
now thee may call the other children and Nancy, 
too ; I don't know how we are to keep Elly quiet, 
though." 

The fact was, no one liked to interfere much with 



18 The Home Circle. 

Elly's gratifications; he was such a round, roly- 
poly, curly-headed little fellow, and had such win- 
ning ways of his own, that it was hard to keep him 
under any very strict discipline. The family rules 
had relaxed a good deal before Elly came, and now 
he stood in a fair way of being spoiled ; only that as 
he saw the older children always obedient and lov- 
ing, he naturally followed their example, and was by 
no means a disagreeable child. In this case, his 
sister Mary undertook to amuse him with slate and 
pencil ; and soon every one was seated with all ap- 
pliances for spending an hour in work and reading. 
If Lizzy had been unable to find a piece of silk to 
match in her doll's bonnet, or Martha had forgotten 
her scissors, or mislaid a spool of cotton, it would 
have been thought a great breach of good manners 
to have interrupted the reader, or spoiled the enjoy- 
ment of the rest of the family, by getting up to go 
in search of the articles. They had learned this, 
long ago. And now a reading hour passed quietly 
and pleasantly to all, 




CHAPTER III. 

THE STORY OF THOMAS ELLWOOD. 

THOMAS ELLWOOD was the younger son of 
a man named Walter Ellwood. The Ellvvood 
family had once been rich; but, owing to many 
causes, had become poorer and poorer, until the 
grandfather of Thomas Ellwood, and the father of 
Walter, retrieved the fallen condition of the family 
by marrying the only child of Walter Gray, whose 
name and whose estate passed into the possession of 
Walter Ellwood. 

Perhaps you do not know that, in England, it is 
the custom for the eldest son of a family to have all 
the money and lands left by the father when he dies. 
The oldest brother may spend his time in luxury 
and idleness, while the others are obliged to work 
very hard, sometimes, to procure themselves the 
means of living, even without much comfort. The 
sisters have small legacies left to them, or are depend- 
ent upon the generosity of their brothers. In 
many families it is not considered gentlemanly to 
work, and so they put the younger sons into the 
army, to kill or be killed \ or into the navy, where 
too they are expected to fight; or perhaps they 

- 19 



20 The Home Circle. 

oblige them to study law or physic ; or, worse' than 
all, to study how they may make money by preach- 
ing. Does it not seem a dreadful mockery to us, to 
have the words of life bought and sold ? Did not 
Christ say, " Freely have you received, freely give ? " 

Thus it was at the time Thomas Ellwood lived, 
and thus it is even now in England. Ought we not 
to rejoice that our own lot was cast in a land so 
different ? 

Thomas Ellwood was, as I have said, the younger 
son of an Englishman. He was born in the year 
1639, rather more than two hundred years ago. 
When he was about two years old he was taken to 
London, where his father resided for some years. 
It was at the time of civil war. A civil war means 
a war carried on in a country between its own 
people, where neighbor fights against neighbor, a 
man against the companion whose hand he had 
clasped in friendship a month before — brother 
against brother, and father against' son. All wars 
are dreadful ; but these are the most dreadful. 

At such a period as this Thomas Ellwood lived. 
The king and the parliament were opposed to each 
other — each with an army. The parliamentary 
forces overcoming those of the king, reduced him to 
submission. He was seized and beheaded ; his 
party was enraged, and the whole country bathed in 
blood. The priests and preachers, instead of telling 
the people how wicked they were, encouraged them 
on both sides. On both sides they prayed for vie- 



The Home Circle. 21 

tory, and besought the Lord to look down upon their 
efforts, to bring ruin upon the enemy : forgetting 
that he is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity ; 
forgetting that he said, " Thou shalt not kill : " for- 
getting all that the meek and lowly Jesus ever taught. 
Alas ! it pains me to tell you of the wickedness 
which existed in England when the Society of 
Friends first arose ; but you cannot appreciate the 
beauty and true nobleness of their characters and 
actions unless you see the adverse circumstances by 
which they were surrounded. Walter Ellwood was 
not a Friend : he belonged to the parliamentary side, 
and took his family to London to be under their 
protection. 

Here he became acquainted with Lady Springett, 
the widow of Sir William Springett, who died in the 
service of the parliament. Lady Springett had a 
little daughter, named Gulielma, with whom Thomas 
Ellwood spent a great deal of his time. They used 
to play together, and ride together in a little coach, 
which her footman would draw about. This is par- 
ticularly mentioned, because the renewal of his 
acquaintance with her was the means of his being 
led towards Friends. 

While living in London, the elder brother was 
boarded at a private school, but afterwards, when the 
family went to their own home, both he and Thomas 
were sent to a school about three miles off. Thomas 
learned very fast indeed \ ' yet he was often whipped, 
for he was a very mischievous little boy, and it took 



22 The Home Circle. 

him such a little while to get his lessons that his 
hands would often get him into trouble. He played 
tricks upon the others, so that he would be whipped 
two or three times in a single day. Thomas never 
complained of this. But there are, I think, many 
other better ways of teaching children to be good. 
Thomas learned his lessons so fast and so well, that 
he probably would have made a very good scholar if 
he had had the proper opportunity. But Walter 
Ellwood's family being a very expensive one he 
thought he could not afford Thomas the advantages 
of a higher school ; particularly as the older brother 
was removed to college, where he was entered as a 
fellow-commoner, and as such expected to spend a 
great deal of money. This was acting upon the 
principle already mentioned, that the younger 
brother should give place in every respect to the 
older. 

After leaving school Thomas paid but little atten- 
tion to his books, until after a while he was afraid to 
read aloud lest he should make some mistake in the 
pronunciation of a word. He had a great deal of 
wit and good sense, which enabled him to make 
himself agreeable to those with whom he associated, 
and which often drew him into company. 

In this way he lived until he was about eighteen 
years of age, not doing anything worse than wasting 
his time, as other young men did. One day he 
was out riding with his father, and they intended 
going to a neighboring town; but the coachman, 



The Home Circle. 23 

seeing a nearer and better way than the one 
generally used, turned into it. It ran through a 
field of grain, but was quite wide enough for the 
carriage to pass without injuring it. There was a 
man ploughing not far off ; he ran to them ; and, 
stopping the coach, poured forth a shower of re- 
proaches. Walter Ellwood mildly answered, that 
if any one was to blame it was not him, but the 
driver, who turned in that way without asking any- 
thing about it : but he told the man that he might 
come into town and he would pay him if there 
was any damage done. When they arrived in town 
they were told it was very often used as a road, but 
the common road was close by, and pretty good too ; 
so they concluded to return by the latter. It was 
late in the evening when they started, and very dark. 
The man who had troubled them in the morning got 
another man to join him to waylay them, expecting 
they would take the same road home. When they 
found this was not the case they ran across, and 
catching hold of the horses' bridles, would not let 
them go forward. Walter called out to the coach- 
man, asking him why he did not go on. He 
answered there were two men at the horses' heads. 
Walter instantly opened the coach door, and, step- 
ping out, expostulated with the men, who were 
armed with cudgels, and seemed bent upon doing 
mischief. He told them they were in danger from 
the law. But finding what he said of no effect, he 
turned to his son, who had followed him out of the 



24 The Home Circle. 

carriage, saying, " Tom, disarm theffi.*' In those 
days it was the fashion for all those called gentlemen 
to wear swords. Accordingly Thomas drew his and 
made a pass at the one next him ; but the bright 
blade frightened the cudgel-bearer, who at once 
slipped aside, and ran off for safety ; while his com- 
panion, too much terrified to stand his ground, fled 
likewise. Thomas followed them, being very much 
enraged at their insolence ; but he could not come 
up with them, and then concluded they must have 
taken shelter under some bush. He ran so far that 
in the darkness of the night he could not find his 
way back, except by shouting to his father, and his 
father shouting in return. 

At the time, and for a good while after, Thomas 
Ellwood's only regret was, that he had not come up 
with these men. Eut after he became acquainted 
with the gospel truth, oh ! how thankful he felt that 
he had been preserved from shedding human blood. 
For though our sins may be forgiven, yet it is one 
of the most awful recollections that can attend a 
man through life, that he has robbed a fellow- 
creature of existence. Nothing but the utmost de- 
pendence on the power and mercy of God can 
reconcile a truly feeling man to himself, when he 
has hurried into the presence of his Creator one who 
is doubtless unprepared. All the battles that were 
ever fought, all the victories ever gained, are not 
worth the sacrifice of one life. Yet it is a noble 
deed to venture freely fortune, liberty, honor, and 



The Home Circle. 25 

life, in the service of our Divine Creator. He gave 
them : shall they not be devoted to him ? Did not 
Jesus Christ bear all things for us ? He was " a man 
of sorrows and acquainted with grief; " and when 
cruel men were about to take his precious life, his 
words, " Father, forgive them, for they know not 
what they do," were the fruit of the gospel spirit of 
peace, and are an example to all future generations. 
Legions of angels were at his prayer, yet he sub- 
mitted to be " led as a lamb to the slaughter." If 
we follow him, must we not suffer patiently when 
evil comes upon us ? When smitten upon one cheek, 
must we not turn the other ? When reviled, must 
we not, in obedience to Christ, revile not again ? 

When these things came before the mind of 
Thomas Ellwood, his heart was filled with gratitude 
towards that great Almighty Being who had watched 
over him, and kept him from committing so great a 
crime. 

It was about a year after this occurrence that 
Thomas's brother died, and soon after his mother 
also. He was very much attached to his mother, 
and her death probably awakened his first serious 
impressions. Shortly after he went with his father 
to visit Lady Springett, who had married a second 
time. Her present husband was Isaac Penington, 
and she with him and her daughter Gulielma 
Springett, had joined the Society of Friends. This 
the Ellwoods heard on their way to visit them. 
They were at first amazed with their quiet manners, 
3 



26 The Home Circle. 

so different from the noisy, trifling gayety of the 
upper classes at that clay. They felt disappointed 
of their pleasant visit, but had no opportunity of 
asking an explanation, as there were other visitors 
present. Thomas left the others, intending to 
renew his acquaintance with Gulielma, his little 
playfellow of former times ; and finding her in the 
garden with her maid, he addressed her, as was usual 
in that day, with extravagant compliments. But 
though she treated him with politeness, there was so 
much quiet dignity about her that he felt abashed at 
his own flippancy, and wanted assurance enough to 
carry him through • so asking pardon for his bold- 
ness in intruding on her private walks, he withdrew. 
They stayed to dinner and then returned home, not 
very much pleased with their visit, yet uncertain 
where to find fault. 

This visit had one good effect on Walter Ellwood's 
mind. He was a magistrate, and frequently had 
Friends brought before him and complained of 
because they would not take oaths as other people 
did. When he found that his friends, persons for 
whom he had a great respect, held the same opinions, 
he felt disposed to deal with them as gently as the 
law would admit. 

A young man who lived in Buckinghamshire 
came one First-day to a town called Chinner, not 
far from the residence of the Ellwoods, having some- 
thing to say to the minister of that parish. Being 
somewhat acquainted with the young man, Thomas 



The Home Circle. 27 

went t9 hear him. He stood in the aisle before the 
pulpit all the time of the sermon, not speaking a 
word until it was ended, and then spoke a few words 
to the priest, of which all that Thomas could hear 
was, " That the prayer of the wicked is abomination 
to the Lord," and that " God heareth not sinners J ' 
He said more than this, however, though Thomas 
did not hear what it was ; but he was interrupted by 
the officers, who took him before Walter Ell wood. 
When Thomas found they were going to take him 
there he hastened home to tell his father about it 
before the party should arive, and mentioned that 
the man behaved quietly and peaceably, not speak- 
ing at all until the minister had done preaching, 
and then what he said was short, and delivered with- 
out any passion or ill language. 

Accordingly, the officers soon made their appear- 
ance, -bringing the man with them, and charging 
him with making a public disturbance. Walter 
Ellwood asked them when he spoke ; they answered, 
"When the minister had concluded." He asked 
what words he used : this they could not agree in. 
He then asked if he had used any reviling language, 
and finding he had not, he dismissed the case, 
counselling the young man against making any 
trouble. 

In the tenth month, 1659, the Ellwood family 
paid another visit to the Peningtons. Walter 
being desirous of acquainting himself with Friends' 
principles they stayed several days, and as a Friends' 



28 The Home Circle. 

meeting was appointed in the neighborhood they 
were invited to attend, which they did. This meet- 
ing was held in the large hall of an old house which 
once belonged to a gentleman, but was now used as 
a farm-house. It was named the Grove. Here were 
several Friends, but none spoke except Edward Bur- 
rough. Thomas Ellwood was sitting next him, and 
drank in his words with avidity, for they not only 
reached his understanding, but warmed his heart. 
After the meeting concluded Edward Burrough went 
home with the Peningtons. The evenings were 
long ; and the servants of the family being Friends, 
were called in, and after sitting a while in silence, 
Edward Burrough spoke again. But Walter Ellwood 
not agreeing with him, raised some objections. 
James Nailor, who was there, then took the subject 
up and spoke with such a clear understanding of it, 
that Walter had nothing more to say. James and 
Edward then gently dropped the argument, and 
they all withdrew to their respective chambers. 

In the morning, Thomas, his father and younger 
sister prepared to return home \ the older one (for 
he had two) had gone on to London from the Pen- 
ingtons'. All the way Thomas, who rode behind 
the coach on horseback, could hear his father and 
sister conversing pleasantly together, but he could 
not join with them, for his heart felt sad and 
very heavy, though he knew not what ailed him. 
They reached home that night, and next day 
Thomas went to hear the minister at Chinner 



The Home Circle. 29 

preach ; the last time, as he says, he ever went to 
hear one. 

He now felt very desirous of attending a Friends' 
meeting, and got his father's man to inquire if there 
was any in the neighborhood. He heard of one 
about seven miles off, which Thomas concluded to 
attend ; but as he did not like to be seen going to a 
Friends' meeting, he took his greyhound with him, 
as if he went out coursing. 

When he came to the place and had put his horse 
up at an inn, he was at a loss where to go, and not 
wishing to inquire at the inn, he went into the 
street. Here he had not been long before he saw a 
man riding up that he remembered having met at 
Isaac Penington's, and followed him, concluding 
he was going to meeting, as indeed he was. Thomas 
followed him into the house and sat down on the 
first empty chair he came to ; some of the people 
looking at him, for he was fashionably dressed and 
had his sword by his side. . . . Samuel Thornton, 
who was present, spoke, and his words were very 
suitable to Thomas's case, so that he felt as if they 
were directed to him. When the meeting was over, 
he got his horse and hurried home, that his father 
might not notice his absence. 

This last meeting confirmed the feelings awakened 
at the first, and he became sensible that he too had 
a place to fill, an allotted part to perform. His 
general trouble and confusion beginning to wear off, 
he saw that though he had mercifully been preserved 



30 The Home Circle. 

from many evil things, yet the spirit of the world 
had hitherto ruled in him, and led him into pride, 
vanity, superfluity, and flattery. Now he found he 
must not only abstain from indulgence in these 
things, but he must bring his very thoughts into 
subjection, knowing no guiding power save that new 
law, the spirit of life in Christ Jesus. He felt he 
must first " cease to do evil," and then " learn to do 
well." 

In those days, such as were called gentlemen 
dressed in lace, ribbons, buttons, and rings. Their 
apparel was very gay and very inconvenient ; their 
shoes were made with long points turned up, and 
fastened to the knee by ribbons ; their clothes were 
trimmed with lace, and their hair worn in long 
ringlets. These things, in which Thomas had taken 
much delight, he was now forced to lay aside ; not 
that Friends adopted any singular costume; they 
retained that of the times, merely leaving off those 
parts which were of no use. The great Creator has 
not ordered us to wear a bonnet or hat of this shape, 
or a coat of that color. He says, " Give me thy 
heart," and if we think we can give him our hearts, 
and yet give all our attention to the adorning of our 
persons, we shall find that this is impossible. If our 
hearts are truly turned towards the Lord, it matters 
but little how the body is arrayed, so that it is neat, 
clean, and decent. When the earlier Friends first 
associated together, persecution after persecution 
rolled upon them like the waves of the sea ; and to 



The Home Circle. 31 

minds so engaged as theirs must have been, necessary- 
clothing and necessary food must have been all that 
was needed. 

It is the mark of a mind unused to being filled 
with more important matter, to be much occupied 
with this comparatively trivial subject. We find 
people who value themselves upon dressing plainly- 
even when they wear costly stuffs. It appears to me 
that sometimes when a soul capable of noble things, 
becomes debased by the love of finery, our Creator, 
willing to test our obedience, requires us to adopt a 
particular mode in order to convince our own minds 
which we love best, our own selfish gratification, or 
obedience to the intimation revealed to us above. 
If we feel so convinced, let us at once endeavor to 
crush all opposition to his will, being assured it is 
for our own peace best that we should do so. 




.CHAPTER IV. 

STORY OF THOMAS ELLWOOD CONTINUED. 

BUT to return to Thomas Ell wood. When he 
divested himself of his ornaments, which his 
father took, telling him he would keep them for him 
until he came to his reason again, he found there 
was yet more for him to give up — which was his 
character as a polite gentleman. 

It was the fashion to bow, sometimes sinking on 
one knee, and to use the terms of " my master," 
" my lord," "my dame," "your servant," and 
many others ; and he who omitted them was con- 
sidered as rough and ill-bred. Thomas being no 
man's servant, could no longer imply he was, with- 
out violating the truth. And these principles made 
the friends different in dress and address from any 
other persuasion whatever. Thomas felt that he 
could do all that was required of him, except change 
his manner towards his father : yet he had learned 
there was one nearer and dearer than even his 
father, for whose sake he had put his hand to the 
gospel plough, and should he now turn back ? 

While his mind was in this state his father sent 
him to Oxford to attend to some business for him, 
32 



The Home Circle. 33 

and to bring him an account of what was going on. 
Thomas felt it almost impossible for him to go, 
as he should meet with many of his young com- 
rades there. But as he had never resisted his 
father's will, he could not do so now. He did not 
attempt to make any excuse ; but ordering his horse 
to be got ready very early in the morning he went 
to bed. Here, as he lay upon his pillow, there was 
a great struggle, in his breast. He began to think 
how he should behave in court, and how he should 
despatch the business upon which his father sent 
him. He had been accustomed to meet with many 
gentlemen there, and to be very merry with them ; 
now he could not pull off his hat — he could not bow 
— nor could he address them in the customary man- 
ner. He therefore prayed earnestly that he might 
be preserved through all the temptations of the day, 
and his mind becoming more easy he fell asleep. 

Next morning he felt calm and quiet, yet afraid 
he should say something he ought not ; for he had 
been so accustomed to complimentary phrases with- 
out any meaning, that it was much more easy to say 
them than to remain quiet. As he rode along he 
prayed again, " Oh, my God, preserve me faithful, 
whatever may befall me. Suffer me not to be drawn 
into evil, how much soever scorn and contempt may 
be cast upon me." 

When he arrived at Oxford he put up his horse 
and went directly to the hall where the sessions 
were held, and had been there but a short time be- 



34 The Home Circle. 

fore a little group of his acquaintance seeing him, 
came up to speak to him. One of these was a 
scholar in his gown, another a surgeon of the city, 
the third a country gentleman whom Thomas had 
long known. When these came up they all saluted 
him in the usual manner, pulling off their hats, 
bowing, and saying " Your humble servants, sir," 
expecting, no doubt, that he would do the same. 
But when they saw him standing still, moving 
neither cap nor knee, they looked at each other, 
much surprised, and without speaking. At length 
the surgeon, who stood near him, clapped his hand 
upon his shoulder, and smiling, said, " What ! Tom, 
a Quaker?" To which he readily and cheerfully 
answered, "Yes, a Quaker;" and as the words 
passed from his mouth he felt great joy spring up in 
his heart, that he had strength given him to confess 
himself one of those despised people. They stayed 
not long, but taking their leave in the same cere- 
monious manner, departed. 

After they were gone he walked about the hall, 
and went up nearer the court, to observe what jus- 
tices were on the bench, and what business they had 
before them. He went in fear, not of what they 
would or could do to him, but lest he should be sur- 
prised into saying something which he ought not. 
It was not long before the court adjourned for dinner, 
and that time Thomas took to go to the clerk of the 
peace. As soon as he came to the room where he 
was, the clerk met and saluted him, and though he 



The Home Circle. 35 

appeared somewhat startled at Thomas's carriage 
and behavior, he made no remark, but behaved 
very respectfully to him. 

After concluding his father's business he withdrew, 
intending to return home. But on looking into the 
street from the inn where he had left his horse, he saw 
three justices standing in the way where he was to 
ride; and this brought a fresh concern upon him. 
He was pretty sure they would stop him to inquire 
about his father, and feared they would not let him 
off. This doubting led him to contriving how he 
should go out without being seen, and as he knew 
the city pretty well, he thought of a back way. Yet 
this did not seem right, and he stood a good while, 
hoping the justices would walk off, but they still con- 
tinued there. At last he persuaded himself to go the 
back way, which brought much trouble and grief on 
him, because he shunned the cross. His suffering 
was so great that he then felt willing to yield in all 
things, except his deportment towards his father, 
and thought it might be right to make a difference 
between him and other men in this respect. When 
he came home he went to his father bareheaded, to 
give him an account of his business, and, behaving 
as usual, Walter found no fault with him. 

Thomas was very desirous of going to meetings, 
and of visiting friends ; but as he had no horse of 
his own, and felt unwilling to use his father's, when 
he knew the latter would object, he thought it would 
be better to borrow one of an acquaintance, who 



36 The Home Circle 

wished to sell it, or have it kept for its work. Ac- 
cordingly he despatched his father's man to get the 
horse and bring him over. The next day Thomas 
concluded to go to Isaac Penington's, and, rising 
very early, got ready. Desirous of paying all due 
respect to his father, he seiit a person up-stairs to tell 
him where he was going, and to ask if he had any 
commands. Walter sent down for his son, wishing 
to see him before he started. Thomas went up to 
his father's bedside, who said, " I understand you 
have a mind to go to Mr. Penington's." "I have," 
said Thomas. " Why," said the father, " I wonder 
you should ; you were there, you know, only a few 
days ago. Don't you think it will look oddly?" 
Thomas answered that he did not think it would. 
His father replied, "I doubt you will tire them of 
your company, and make them think they will be 
troubled with you." " Oh ! " said Thomas, "if I 
find anything of that sort I will make the shorter 
stay." " But can you propose any sort of business 
there," said his father, "beyond a mere visit?" 
"Yes," Thomas replied; he not only proposed to 
see them, but to have some conversation with them. 
His father then said in a harsher tone, " I hope you 
don't incline to be of their way? " " Truly," said 
Thomas, ' ' I like them and their way very well, so 
far as I understand it ; and am desirous of going to 
them that I may understand it better. ' ' Thereupon 
Walter Ellwood began to reckon up as many faults 
as possible against the Quakers ; telling his son they 



The Home Circle. 37 

were a rude, unmannerly people ; that they would 
not give civil respect or honor to their superiors ; 
no, not even to magistrates ; and that they held 
many dangerous principles. To all these charges 
Thomas could only reply they might be misrepre- 
sented, as the best of men had been. After a little 
more conversation Walter told his son he wished he 
would not go so soon, but take a little time to con- 
sider it, and that he might visit Mr. Penington's 
afterwards. "Nay, sir," said his son, "pray don't 
hinder my going now ; for I have so strong a desire 
to go that I do not well know how to forbear." As 
he said these words he retreated quietly to the 
chamber door ; then hastening down-stairs he went 
immediately to the stable, and finding his horse 
ready, started at once, fearing his father would send 
him word he must not go. 

This discourse detained him a while. The roads 
being bad, and his horse not very good, it was after- 
noon before he reached Isaac Penington's. The ser- 
vant who came to the door told Thomas there was a 
meeting in the house. He hastened in ; and, know- 
ing the rooms, went directly to the little parlor 
where the Friends were seated in silence. When 
the meeting was ended, and those who were stran- 
gers had withdrawn, Isaac Penington and his wife 
received their guest very courteously ; and not know- 
ing he had been under exercise, evinced no unusual 
cordiality. But when they came to see a change in 
4 



38 The Home Circle. 

dress, gesture, speech, and manner, they were 
exceedingly kind and tender towards him. 

Thomas spent that evening with them, conversing 
very little ; but, as he says, feeling great satisfaction 
in being still and quiet, his spirit being drawn near 
to the Lord. Before he went to bed they told him 
of another meeting to be held next day, not far from 
there, which some of the family expected to attend. 
Of this he was very glad, particularly as it was on 
his road home. Of this meeting Thomas said, "A 
very good meeting was this in itself, and to me. 
Edward Burrough, a noted Friend, and one who 
afterwards sealed his testimony with his blood, was 
present and spoke with life and power. Thomas 
was not only confirmed in his religious views, but 
some things were opened to his mind which he had 
not seen clearly before. So true it is, that as we 
continue faithful, more and more light is given unto 
us, even until we come to the perfect day. 

Several Friends who were there noticed him as 
one whom they had met before, and invited him 
home with them ; but Edward Burrough going to 
Isaac Penington's drew him thither again. He felt 
as if it would do him good to ride with Edward, 
hoping that he would offer him some encouragement 
in his new path \ but he, seeing that the right spirit 
was at work in Thomas's bosom, gave him no 
opportunity of pouring forth doubts, fears, and 
questionings. For he was sensible that the guidance 
of the Good Spirit in ourselves is what we must 



The Home Circle. 39 

attend to, and that no man, however capable, can 
teach us as the Holy Spirit. Edward was naturally 
of a free and open temper, and afterwards was very 
familiar and affectionate with Thomas, yet now 
he thought it right to show him only common 
kindness. 

The next day they parted, Edward for London, 
and Thomas for his own home, under a great weight 
and exercise of spirit. He now saw that he had not 
been clear in his reasonings respecting his father. 
He saw that the honor due to parents did not consist 
in bowing the body or uncovering the head, but in a 
ready obedience to their lawful commands, and in 
performing all needful services unto them. So he 
plainly saw that he could no longer continue his 
former mode of manifesting respect, without drawing 
on himself the guilt of wilful disobedience. 

On his way home he was much troubled, for he 
thought of his father's anger and of the severities 
which would be heaped upon his head ; and then he 
prayed that he might be preserved through tempta- 
tion, and enabled to bear all that might be inflicted 
on him. When he got home he expected a rough 
reception, but his father was abroad. He sat down 
in the kitchen, and keeping silence, prayed that the 
Lord might preserve him from falling. 

After some time, he heard the coach drive in, 
which put him in such a fear that a shivering came 
over him. But by the time Walter had alighted and 
come in, he had somewhat recovered himself. As 



40 The Home Circle 

soon as Thomas saw him, he rose and advancing a step 
or two towards him, still keeping his hat on, he said, 
" Isaac Penington and his wife remember their loves 
to thee." Walter Ellwood stopped abruptly, and 
observing that his son stood covered before him, 
and that he used the word "thee" with a stern 
countenance and a tone which indicated great dis- 
pleasure, said, " I shall talk with you another time,' , 
and then hastily walked into the parlor, so that 
Thomas did not see him again that night. He 
foresaw there was a storm arising, but the peace he 
felt in his own mind was more than a recompense, 
though it grieved him much to offend his hitherto 
kind parent. 

There was to be a meeting next day at Oxford, 
and Thomas feeling a great desire to attend, ordered 
his borrowed horse to be got ready early in the 
morning in order to go to it. He was anxious to 
consult his father's feelings as much as possible, and 
after he was ready, desired his sister to go up to his 
father's chamber and tell him that he was going to 
Oxford, and wished to know if he had any com- 
mands. His father sent a message to him not to go 
until he came down, and getting up immediately, he 
hastened down, partly dressed. When he saw 
Thomas standing with his hat on, he was so trans- 
ported with rage that he struck him with both fists, 
and plucking his hat off, threw it away. Then 
stepping hastily out to the stable and seeing the 
borrowed horse standing saddled and bridled, he 



The Home Circle. 41 

inquired whose it was. His man telling him, he 

said, "Then ride him back and tell Mr. I 

desire he will never lend my son his horse again 
unless he brings a note from me." The poor fellow, 
who was fond of his young master, did not like to 
carry this message, and was disposed to make 
excuses or delays ; but Walter was positive in his 
commands, and would not let the man eat his break- 
fast nor go out of his sight, until he mounted the 
horse and rode off. Then coming in, he went up- 
stairs to finish dressing, thinking his son safe enough 
at home — as he was not very fond of walking. 

Thomas seeing the horse go off, understood how 
matters went, and being very desirous of going to 
the meeting, changed his boots for shoes and got 
another hat. He also told his sister, who loved him 
dearly, and whom he could trust, where he was 
going, and, slipping out privately, walked seven long 
miles to meet some Friends. After he had started, 
he could not help thinking that perhaps it was wrong 
in him thus to steal away from his father, and he 
stood still a while, not knowing whether to go back 
or forward. Fear of offending his father would 
have turned him back, while the desire to be with 
Friends impelled him forward. He thought within 
himself, how could that feeling be of the Lord if it 
induced him to disobey his father? Yet he was 
conscious that it was not in his own will, nor with 
intention to give his father par". Thus he went on 
reasoning, until the passage of Scripture — " Children, 



42 The Home Circle. 

obey your parents in the Lord" occurred to him, 
after which he went on more cheerfully, and was 
received with great kindness and tenderness by the 
Friends there. 

After Thomas left home, his father, supposing him 
to have gone up to his chamber, made no inquiry 
about him till evening. The weather was very cold, 
and he and his daughter were sitting comfortably 
together by the fire, when he said to her, " Go up to 
your brother's chamber and bring him down ; it may 
be he will sit there else, in a sullen fit, until he has 
caught cold." " Alas ! sir," said she, "he is not in 
his chamber, nor in the house neither." "Why, 
where is he then ? ' ' said the father, starting up in 
alarm. " I know not," said she, " where he is, sir; 
but I know that when he saw you had sent away his 
horse, he put his shoes on and went out on foot, and 
I have not seen him since. And indeed, sir, I don't 
wonder at his going away, considering how you used 
him." Walter had not foreseen this firmness in one 
who was wont to obey every intimation of his father's 
will, and fearing he would never return, he poured 
forth his lamentations so loudly that the family 
could hear him. He went to bed immediately, 
where he passed a restless night, bemoaning himself, 
and grieving over his son. Next morning his 
daughter sent a man to find her brother, and give 
him this account, entreating him to return home as 
soon as possible ; yet in case he should not return, 
she sent fresh linen for his use. 



The Ho. me Circle. 43 

Thomas was very sorry for his father's uneasiness, 
and would have returned home that evening after 
meeting; but the Friends persuaded him to stay, 
saying, the meeting would probably end late, and 
that the days were short, and the road long and 
muddy. Besides which, one of the Friends there, 
promised to go home with him and talk with his 
father. This was doubtless intended in kindness to 
Thomas, but it appears to have been ill judged. 

The next day Thomas went home, accompanied 
by this Friend ; and as they drew near the place, 
they planned that Thomas should go in the back 
way and seat himself in the kitchen, while the 
Friend should desire to see his father, and take that 
opportunity of expostulating with him. When Wal- 
ter Ellwood heard that some one desired to speak 
with him, he went into the hall, and was much sur- 
prised at finding a Quaker waiting for him there. 
Yet not knowing on what account he came, he 
stayed to hear his business ; and when he found it 
concerned his own son, he fell on him very sharply, 
probably considering it a piece of great impertinence 
in a person who had been instrumental in mislead- 
ing his son, to offer him any advice respecting his 
treatment of that son. Turning away from the 
Friend, he went into the kitchen, and there found 
Thomas standing with his hat on his head. Heated 
with his conversation, he seemed to forget that this 
was the son over whom he had so lately mourned as 
lost ; and his grief turning to anger, he could not 



44 The Home Circle. 

contain it, but running passionately towards him, he 
snatched off his hat and threw it away ; then striking 
him on the head he ordered him to go up to his own 
chamber. Thomas obeyed, and his father followed 
him, giving a blow every few steps \ as he went 
through the hall, the Friend who came with him 
could see how little his untimely interference between 
father and son had mended matters. 

Was it not strange that Walter Ellwood should 
become so enraged at his son, merely because he 
kept his hat on before him ? But this shows that in 
those days men had made an idol of that kind of 
respect, rendering it incumbent upon Friends to 
bear a faithful testimony against it by suffering fines, 
imprisonments, and cruel beatings, rather than bow 
down to this idol. Any one thing upon which we 
improperly set our hearts, becomes an idol to us. 
If we love and value it more than we do our Creator, 
we worship it. This we must not do, or we become 
as blinded as the poor heathen who "bow down to 
wood or stone." Any feeling of pride, or vanity, or 
self-importance, which stands between us and our 
Creator, has become an idol, and we are bound to 
destroy that feeling or reduce it to subjection, 

Many, very many children and grown people, who 
call themselves Christians, would find they had 
idols, if they would strictly examine their own 
hearts. 

It does not appear to me to be of any great con- 
sequence in itself, whether a man pulled his hat off 



The Home Circle. 45 

merely by way of salutation or not. But when the 
custom had grown to be an idol, it was of great con- 
sequence to break it. We ought to respect and 
venerate those persons who suffered so much upon 
this account. 

Walter Ellwood was so determined that his son 
should not wear his hat in his presence, that after 
snatching it off his head, he would not give it to him 
again, but put it aside where it would not be found. 
Thomas then put on another hat, which his father 
soon tore violently from him \ so that he found him- 
self obliged to go bareheaded, for the want of hat or 
cap. This occurred in the eleventh month ; and the 
weather being very severe, he caught a heavy cold, 
so that his head and face swelled very much, and his 
gums became so sore that he could put nothing in 
his mouth but liquids. His kind sister waited on 
him, and did everything she could for his relief, 
but his father did not seem to feel much pity for 
him. 




CHAPTER V. 

STORY OF THOMAS ELLWOOD CONTINUED. 

THOMAS ELLWOOD was very much of a pris- 
oner that winter ; for he could not go about 
the country without a hat, and his father* took care 
he should not have the means of getting one. So 
he spent the time in his chamber, reading the Bible, 
and silently waiting on the Lord. Doubtless it was 
excellently spent in learning to bear the cross. 

Whenever he had occasion to speak to his father, 
he offended him by saying "thee" or "thou." At 
one of these times, after beating him, and command- 
ing him to go to his chamber, which he usually did 
when affronted at him, Walter followed him to the 
foot of the staircase, and giving him a parting blow, 
said: " If ever I hear you say 'thee' or 'thou' to 
me again, I will strike the teeth down your throat." 
Thomas was greatly grieved to hear his father utter 
these passionate words ; and turning to him, he 
calmly said : " Would it not be just for God to serve 
thee so, when thou sayest thee or thou to him?" 
His father's hand was up to strike him again, yet it 
sunk, and his countenance changed at these w r ords, 
so that he turned away. Then Thomas went up into 
46 



The Home Circle. 47 

his chamber and prayed to the Lord, earnestly be- 
seeching him that he would be pleased to open his 
father's eyes, that he might see whom he fought 
against, and for what \ and that he might be pleased 
to turn his heart. 

For some time after this, Walter said nothing to 
Thomas and gave him no occasion to speak to him. 
But this calm was not of long duration, for another 
storm occurred soon after. 

In his younger years, and more especially while 
he lived in London, his father had been in the habit 
of attending the meetings of the Puritans, and had 
stored up a stock of Scripture knowledge. He some- 
times, but not frequently, caused his family to come 
together on First-day evening to hear him expound 
a chapter and pray. The family was now very small. 
His wife and oldest son were both dead ; his eldest 
daughter was in London, and he kept but two ser- 
vants. It so happened that one First-day evening, 
he bid his daughter, who sat in the parlor with him, 
to call the servants in to prayer. 

Perhaps this was intended as a trial to Thomas ; 
at any rate it proved one : for the servants, loving 
their young master, did not go in until they were 
sent for a second time. This offended Walter : and 
when they went in, instead of going on with the 
evening exercises, he asked them why they had not 
come in at first ; and the excuse they gave only 
heightened his displeasure. He said, " Call in that 
fellow" (meaning his son) : " he is the cause of all 



48 The Home Circle. 

this." The servants hesitated to obey; for they 
were sure the blame would all fall upon him. But 
Thomas, hearing his father, went in without wait- 
ing for them. His father showered out reproaches 
against him, using sharp and bitter expressions ; 
until Thomas was induced to say, " They that can 
pray with such a spirit, let them ; for my part I 
cannot." 

This so enraged Walter, that he not only struck 
him with his fists, but, getting his cane, he struck 
him with it so violently, that Thomas raised his arms 
to protect his head from the blows. The man- 
servant stepped in between them ; and, catching the 
cane in his hand, held it fast ; which made the 
father still more angry, if possible. Thomas per- 
ceiving this, bade the man let go his hold, and go 
away; in doing which, as he turned he received a 
blow on his own shoulders. But now the sister in- 
terfered ; and, begging her father to forbear, she 
declared if he did not, she would throw open the 
casement and call for help ; for indeed she was afraid 
he would murder her brother. This stopt his arm ; 
and after some threatening speeches, he told Thomas 
to go to his chamber ; whither he always sent him, 
when displeased. His sister followed him, and 
dressed his arm, which was much bruised and swol- 
len, and the skin was broken in several places. Yet 
he felt that peace and quiet in his own mind which 
far overbalanced all his sufferings. His father, too, 
seemed to have exhausted himself in this last burst 



The Home Circle. 49 

of passion, for he never treated him so severely 
again. 

His older sister returned from London soon after 
this, and her love for Thomas induced her to pity- 
rather than despise him, though she had imbibed a 
great dislike for the Quakers generally. The winter 
passed away slowly as it seemed to Thomas, who was 
taking his first lessons in the school of affliction ; 
but spring had some consolation in store for him, in 
the shape of a visit from his friends, Isaac and Mary 
Penington. His father had a great regard for the 
latter, with whom he had been so well acquainted 
when she bore the name of Lady Springett. In con- 
versation with her after her husband and she had 
joined Friends, but before Thomas Ellwood had, 
she told him how cruelly Isaac's father had used him 
because he would not pull off his hat. This Walter 
seemed surprised to hear, and condemned, as not 
only wicked but absurd. He little thought how soon 
he would imitate the conduct he professed so heartily 
to despise. Mary reminded him of this, and tried 
by every means in her power to soften his displeasure 
towards his son. It availed little, however, and 
seeing how very uncomfortable the son seemed, she 
begged he might be permitted to return home with 
her. This Walter resisted as long as he cbuld ; being 
unwilling probably to have his son go with Quakers: 
but at last consented to the proposal if Thomas 
wished it. Thomas was very willing to go, but he 
had no hat ; and being about to get into the coach 
5 



50 The Home Circle. 

without one, his sister whispered to her father, ask- 
ing if she might not get one for him. He told her 
she might ; while she ran into the house to get it, 
he conversed with Isaac and Mary, who were already 
seated : but when he saw the sister coming with the 
hat, he took leave of them abruptly, and went in, 
fearing the hat would be put on before him. 

Thomas was not allowed any money to take with 
him, and his father had taken from him every article 
that would do to sell. But he was going among kind 
friends, and needed nothing they did not provide 
for him. He stayed six or seven weeks very happily 
at the Grange, which was the name of the place upon 
which the Peningtons lived ; and then feeling it 
would be right, Thomas concluded to return to his 
own home again. 

When he arrived there his father treated him more 
kindly, although Thomas persisted in wearing his 
hat even at the table. Indeed, Walter was wearied 
out with opposition, and after this avoided seeing 
Thomas as much as possible, though he treated him 
more respectfully when forced to notice him. One 
reason of .this may have been, that if he should ever 
wish to sell his estate (which seemed likely), his son's 
consent would be necessary. He also intended going 
up to London ; and as Thomas would be left at 
home, they would not meet for a long time. So he 
was permitted to make just such use of his time as 
pleased him best : and he spent a great deal of it in 
going to meetings. He had no horse to ride, and 



The Home Circle. 51 

often waded ankle-deep in the mud. His father 
once or twice tried to lock the doors, so that he 
should not go out, but there was generally a back- 
way unguarded, so that he could slip off without any 
words passing between them. His sisters were very 
kind to him, and though they could not think as 
he did, they saw he was sincere, and endeavored 
to mitigate their father's anger as much as possible. 

After his father and sisters went up to London, 
which they did when Thomas was about twenty-two 
years old, leaving him at the old house with no one 
but the housekeeper, he was taken with the small- 
pox, which he had very badly indeed. When the 
Friends heard of it, they sent a nurse to take care 
of him. Under her care he soon got better, but was 
not able to go out for a long time. Feeling very 
lonely, he commenced a course of reading in order 
to occupy his mind until he could go out of the 
house ; but his sight being very weak from his late 
illness, he soon impaired it so much, that he was 
forced to give up his studies. No sooner was he 
able, than he hastened to Isaac Penington's, and 
here he became more sensible of his want of general 
information than he had ever been before. 

The society Thomas met with at Isaac Pening- 
ton's soon occasioned him to feel his own deficiency; 
and, speaking earnestly upon this subject to Isaac, 
the latter offered him all the assistance in his power. 
He was acquainted with an eminent physician in 
London, named Paget ; and Dr. Paget was a friend 



52 The Home Circle. 

of John Milton. Milton's sight was entirely gone 
and he usually employed a person, generally a gen- 
tleman's son, to read to him. This was the situation 
that Isaac Penington wished for Thomas Ellwood ; 
knowing that Milton had access to the best works 
which were published, and that his comments and 
remarks would be very useful in forming a young 
person's taste. This was procured by the mediation 
of Dr. Paget, and Thomas, going up to London, 
availed himself of it, by reading aloud to Milton 
certain hours every day. In order to support him- 
self, he dismissed the servant, and sold all the pro- 
vision left in the house. 

Milton perceiving Thomas's earnest desire to learn, 
gave him much encouragement and assistance, and 
taught him the proper pronunciation of his Latin 
words. He had a very quick ear, and could tell by 
the tone, whether his pupil understood what he was 
reading ; and if he did not, would stop him and ex- 
plain the difficult passages. In this way Thomas 
went on for some time, studying in the forenoon, 
and reading to Milton in the afternoon. But his 
health, probably not yet fully established after his 
illness, gave way, and he was obliged to leave town 
just as he was becoming sensible of some improve- 
ment. He went into the country, where Tie remained 
some time and was very ill ; but by nursing and 
care, he recovered again. His father sent him 
enough money to pay the expenses of his illness. 

As soon as he was well enough, he resumed his 



The Home Circle. 53 

attendance on Milton, who was glad to receive him. 
Scarcely was he at his learning again, before he, with 
many other Friends, was taken up on a pretended 
suspicion of being concerned in a plot against the 
government. They were kept in prison several 
months, but not under a very rigid treatment, for 
they were often allowed to absent themselves for a 
day or two, giving their words to be back at the ap- 
pointed time. 

This shows that, with all their prejudices against 
the Friends, the officers of government placed de- 
pendence, upon their words. Indeed, it often hap- 
pened, that a jailer, rinding it inconvenient to ac- 
company his prisoners from one jail to another, would 
start them of! by themselves ; merely requiring their 
promise that they would be at the place at the ap- 
pointed time, if nothing prevented : and to their 
honor be it said, this confidence, we have reason to 
think, was never abused. 

After Thomas Ellwood was discharged from prison, 
which he was without question or trial, he waited 
upon Milton again, but thought it better not to re- 
commence his reading until he saw Isaac Penington. 

Isaac was in poor health, so that he was confined 
to his chamber ; and being very anxious about his 
children, he asked Thomas if he would take charge 
of their education until another teacher could be 
procured. To this plan Thomas consented, being 
unwilling to refuse so small a favor to one who had 
so often stood his friend ; and he soon found he was 



54 The Home Circle. 

improving himself as fast by teaching the children, 
as he could have done, even under Milton's tuition. 
Isaac Penington appearing to De well satisfied, 
Thomas continued with the family, as tutor to his 
children, for seven years ; indeed, until he married. 

While at the Grange, his father came down to 
see the Peningtons, and he behaved very civilly to 
Thomas, inviting him to London, to see his sisters, 
who were both married and had settled there. 
Thomas accordingly went, and stayed a short time 
with them ; but returned again to the Peningtons, 
who had their share of hardship. The family was 
entirely broken up at one time: Isaac in one prison, 
Thomas in another, and the other members all scat- 
tered. When this persecution passed over, how 
happy did they feel to meet in their own pleasant 
home again — father, mother, children, and friends, 
all together once more. 

Gulielma Springett was a very lovely young wo- 
man ; and a great many persons who admired, 
would have liked to marry her. But she refused 
one proposal of the kind after another, until some of 
them said, it must be because she intended to marry 
Thomas Ellwood, who was always there, and had 
every opportunity of pleading his cause. Thomas 
admitted that he did admire her very much indeed ; 
but he thought such a marriage would not be agree- 
able to her mother, and he felt bound in honor not to 
attempt to create any other interest in her bosom, but 
that which might be felt by a dear and gentle sister. 



The Home Circle. 55 

In sixteen hundred and sixty-five, a great pes- 
tilence broke out in London. It was called the 
Plague, and many thousands died of it. All who 
had the means left the city; and among the rest, 
John Milton, who wrote to Thomas Ellwood to pro- 
cure him a lodging in the country ; which he did. 
After Milton was settled in his new home, Thomas 
called on him ; and before he left, Milton gave him 
a manuscript to look over, desiring his opinion. On 
returning it, Thomas told him he admired it very 
much indeed. It was called " Paradise Lost ; " and 
the world has since confirmed Thomas's judgment. 
In giving it back, he said pleasantly to its author, 
' Thou hast said a great deal about Paradise lost, 
canst thou not tell us something oi Paradise found?" 
Milton paused, and did not answer him ; but turned 
the conversation on another subject. Some months 
after Milton had gone back to London, Thomas 
happening to be in town, waited upon him; and 
Milton, showing him the manuscript of "Paradise 
Regained^" said pleasantly, " This is owing to you ; 
for you put it into my head by the question you 
asked, when at Chalfont. I had not thought of it 
before." 

Walter Ellwood, wishing to break the entail on 
his estate, was obliged to request his son's concur- 
rence, as the place could not be sold without his 
consent. Thomas, happy to oblige his father, when- 
ever he could do so without compromising his re- 
ligious principles, cheerfully acceded to his proposal ; 



56 The Home Circle. 

though well aware that it would cut him off from 
all share or right in his father's property. But 
his own exertions would supply him with all that 
was needful ; and he had learned to forego super- 
fluities. 

Thomas Ell wood had always regarded marriage as 
a divine institution, and he held it wrong to look 
upon it in any exclusive worldly point of view. 
When he first felt his affections drawn towards Mary 
Ellis, a young woman whom he had known for sev- 
eral years, and whom he married, he prayed for 
divine counsel and guidance in this important con- 
cern. On mentioning the matter to her, he desired 
no answer until she, too, had waited upon the Lord 
for direction. On obtaining her consent, he in- 
formed his father, who appeared to be much pleased 
with the prospect, though Mary was a Friend. He 
offered to settle a sum of money on Thomas ; which, 
however, he never did. On the contrary, Thomas, 
who knew his father well, thought it necessary to 
have papers drawn up and signed the next day after 
the marriage, securing to his wife all the money and 
lands she had possessed, as well as the little he had 
made, that he might not leave her at the mercy of 
his father. 

And now we are nearly done ; for his after-history 
is but the common history of the other early Friends. 
Fines and imprisonments, — imprisonments and fines 
were lavishly dealt out to them all. In Thomas's 
case, these dark moments were illuminated by inter- 



The Home Circle. 57 

vals of rare happiness at home, where his wife fully 
justified his love and esteem. 

He wrote and published many works, suitable for 
the times, but mostly now become obsolete. Several 
of them were answers to the attacks which Friends 
received at all quarters from priests and others. He 
spoke in meetings for worship but seldom, in meet- 
ings for discipline frequently. He lived to be eighty- 
two years old, when he was taken with palsy, which 
deprived him of the use of his limbs, but left his 
mind clear and unclouded. He bore the pains of 
sickness with patient resignation, and a short time 
before he departed, uttered the words, " I am full of 
joy and peace. My soul is filled with joy." 

It is no real cause of mourning for an infant to be 
taken away from the earth before its purity has been 
sullied ; but it is glorious for the strong man, full of 
years, who has been tried and tempted, and resisted 
temptation, who has " fought the good fight," who 
has " kept the faith," to lay his head upon his dying 
pillow, saying, " Henceforward there is laid up for 
me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the 
righteous Judge, shall give me at that day ; and not 
to me only, but unto all them also that love his ap- 
pearing. ' ' 



CHAPTER VI. 

NANCY AND HER MOTHER. 

ELLWOOD STEWART had a clear, pleasant 
voice, and his children felt much delight in 
listening to it. When he had finished reading, they 
thanked both him and their sister for the pleasure 
that had been afforded them. 

The family was a very happy one ; and one reason 
of this was, the politeness and courtesy with which 
they constantly treated each other. They were not 
permitted, either by example or precept, to treat 
each other with coldness or rudeness, any more than 
they would a stranger ; and the habit of preferring 
others to themselves was easy to them, having been 
inculcated so early. There were no particular rules, 
no formalities observed, but each child was taught 
to oblige others, and to acknowledge the pleasure of 
being obliged. 

Many, many brothers and sisters, who love each 
other dearly, do not have the happy hours they 
might enjoy, by reason of their indulging a petty 
selfishness of disposition. Any child old enough to 
read this is old enough to set about reform, should 
he feel himself to blame in this respect. 
58 



The Home Circle. 59 

After the children had thanked their father, and 
talked a little about the story he had read to them, 
Lizzy said, " Now, sister Mary, may I help thee set 
the table ?" " Thank thee," said Mary, "but 
Martha shall help me, and thee may carry in the 
bread and butter to help Nancy. I think Patty is 
almost too little to do that, but she can help me 
some." While Lizzy and Patty are washing their 
plump little hands I may as well tell who Nancy was, 
for the Stewart family thought a great deal of her, as 
they might well do. 

About forty years ago, when Mary Stewart was a 
little girl, and when her name was Mary Brace, Jane 
Brace, Mary's mother, went to see a poor sick 
woman in the neighborhood where they lived. This 
poor sick woman had a little girl, whose name was 
Nancy ; and a nice, quiet little thing she was, stay- 
ing beside her mother's bed, and watching her pallid 
face nearly all the time. She was too little to work 
much, but she did everything for her mother that a 
hand like hers could ; and she went on any errand 
which her mother had for her, always doing just 
what she was bid. 

After Jane Brace found how ill the woman was 
she never let Nancy go away from her, except to take 
a little walk, that she might breathe the fresh air, 
for she was such a comfort to the poor mother that 
she could hardly bear to have her away. This 
woman was very sick indeed the first time Jane 
Brace ever saw her, and though she tried to da 



60 The Home Circle. 

everything for her that could be done she grew 
worse and worse, until Jane saw that she was going 
to die. Jane hardly knew what to do for her, so she 
asked the doctor if he would be so kind as to stop 
there, and tell her what he thought. The doctor 
was very kind and went to see her that afternoon* 
He told Jane that the woman had a bad cough, and 
pain in her breast ; but he said that was not all that 
ailed her, he thought she must be in a great deal of 
trouble, for she was pining away from some othei 
cause than sickness. 

One day little Nancy came running, almost out of 
breath, and with a very pale face, to ask Jane Brace 
to come over to her mother, for she was very ill 
indeed. Jane was just fitting a dress on one of her 
little children, but she did not even wait to take it off 
and put away the things. She only desired the girl 
who lived with them to take off the pieces which she 
was fitting together and put them by, and take good 
care of the children, for she did not know when she 
would be back. She put her bonnet and shawl on 
and went over to her sick neighbor as soon as possi- 
ble, carrying a little whey which she had got ready 
before. 

When there, Jane did not see that she was any 
worse than usual, but she stayed with her a while 
and used many comforting words, and, speaking in 
a soft, low, gentle tone, tried to make her think of 
pleasant things. She stood up close to the side of 
the bed, and laying the head of the poor sufferer 



The Home Circle. 6i 

upon her breast, pressed her hand gently to her fore- 
head. This little action seemed to open the foun- 
tain of feeling, and the poor woman burst into tears. 
It seemed to her as if she had somebody to love and 
be kind to her, and to whom she might tell all her 
thoughts. 

So she leaned her head against Jane,, and, sobbing 
like a little child, said, "I beg your pardon for 
sending for you, and giving you so much trouble, 
but sure I feel the better for it, if you only lay your 
hand upon me, and my heart has been very sore to- 
day." Jane Brace said some kind words to her, 
and the poor woman, feeling encouraged, went on 
to tell her that about five years before she and her 
husband came away from Ireland on account of the 
troubles. They landed at Quebec. But the man 
had never learned anything but farming, and as he 
had no money nor credit to purchase a farm he went 
out as a day-laborer. In the harvest-time they had 
very high wages, for his wife helped him all she 
could 5 and, he being a strong man, between them 
they made the wages of two men. This did very 
well in harvest-time, but when harvest was over they 
w*ere thrown out of regular work. They lived here 
for two summers, during which time* little Nancy 
was born, and then, thinking they could do better in 
the United States, they came over here. 

The woman's voice faltered when she told her how 
kind her husband was to her, and how he blamed 
himself for ever bringing her away from her own 
6 



62 The Home Circle. 

comfortable home to wander about in poverty with 
him. " But sure," continued she, raising her 
streaming eyes, and fixing them with earnestness on 
Jane's face, {t I had rather share his poverty than to 
have dressed in silks and satins without him. It 
was only when he was taken away that I grew heart- 
sick." 

The husband commenced digging, as being the 
most profitable work for him, but the summer sun, 
so much warmer than he had been accustomed to, 
brought on a bilious fever which left him in such a 
state of debility that it was nine weeks before he 
could go out again. She said there were a good 
many of their countrymen there while he was sick, 
and they raised a sum of money for him ; but he 
could not bear to accept it as a gift, and the very 
first money he was able to earn went to pay that 
debt, and that too before he had provided any 
winter clothing for himself, wife or children (for they 
had two children besides Nancy). They struggled 
along that winter with just enough food and warmth 
to live, but they were happy in loving each other, 
and looked forward to better days. 

As the spring opened, the husband found plenty of 
work, his wife took in washing, and the children, 
ragged and noisy, but healthy and good-humored, 
sometimes helped, or sometimes hindered their 
parents with their work. Thus they went on, feeling 
as if they were getting a little laid by for the next 
winter, when that terrible fever came on again, 



The Home Circle. 6 



O 



putting the husband completely out of heart. Hav- 
ing a good constitution he struggled through it, and 
went to work before he was able, but the fever 
returning again, with no energies of either mind or 
body, he soon fell a victim to it. The little place 
where he lay was so damp and unhealthy, and so 
close, that the rest of the family took the disease, 
and all lay stretched upon the bed of sickness at once. 
The two older children died, and when the poor 
widow, who was delirious, came to her senses, she 
found none of her infants left to clasp to her burst- 
ing heart but her youngest, her little Nancy. Stran- 
gers' hands had buried her other darlings. 

It was long before she could realize that they could 
be gone. Her intellect, enfeebled by illness, and 
unconscious of what had passed after she herself was 
taken sick, still clung to the belief that they had 
only gone away, and she would question her little 
girl, hoping to find some clue to them from her half- 
formed words. 

After a while she grew stronger, and when she 
came to see that she was indeed stripped of husband 
and children, save one darling, she came to the de- 
termination of leaving that place, not much caring 
where she went to, but thinking any spot must be 
better than that. She had not the means of return- 
ing to her own country, indeed they had subsisted 
on the charity of their neighbors for a long time. 
So, bidding farewell to her kind friends, who had 
tried their utmost to dissuade her from casting her- 



64 The Home Circle. 

self among strangers, she started off on foot, with 
her little girl holding her hand, not knowing where 
she should rest for the night. 

Thanks be to him who giveth us every good gift, 
in all her wanderings the food and the night's lodg- 
ing were never denied her. 

It was in the pleasant Indian summer, that she 
thus passed from one village to another, and before 
the cold weather came on, she was fixed in a very- 
small but snug house in the little village of M , 

where Jane Brace found her. She partook too much 
of her husband's pride, to ask • assistance, and had 
hungered and been cold many a time. She took in 
washing to support herself and child, but her consti- 
tution, already undermined by hardship and grief, 
sank under it and her own imprudence. " Indeed," 
said she, "I hardly knew what I was doing, and 
sometimes in the warm weather when I would be 
washing, such a burning heat would come over me, 
that, saving your presence, I would dash the cold 
water right into my bosom, and that is the way I 
think I got my death." 

Jane Brace could not say anything, for she too 
thought that was the way she got her death ; but it 
was too late to blame her now. So laying her down 
gently, she got the whey, and giving her a little to 
revive her, she turned to leave the room, for she 
thought it would be better for the woman to be quiet 
a while, as she was evidently exhausted by speaking 
so long. Nancy's mother was watching her move- 



The Home Circle. 65 

ments, and speaking quickly and with an effort said, 
" Do not leave me yet. I have not said all. Nancy, 
go out of doors, dear, I want to speak to Mrs. 
Brace." Nancy instantly obeyed. 

"Oh! Mrs, Brace, what will become of my 
Nancy ? It comes over me that I must soon die ; 
and if the prayer of the widow, or the blessing of the 
orphan may help you, take care of my Nancy. She 
is a good girl, take her to live with you. Do what 
you choose with her, only let her live with you." 

Jane Brace had thought of this matter before, and 
had even mentioned it to her husband, who knowing 
the strong interest she took in Nancy, told her to do 
just as she thought proper, only not to increase her 
own burdens too much. The increase of her own 
care was the last thing that Jane Brace thought 
about. She was almost afraid to introduce a stranger 
into the midst of her own little flock. Yet all that 
she had seen of the quiet, patient little girl, who 
attended her mother with such unwearied watch, 
disposed her to think favorably of her. Therefore 
if she hesitated a moment when Nancy's mother 
addressed her, it was not long \ for in an instant the 
precepts came before Jane's mind, " Do unto others, 
as ye would that others should do unto you." And 
" What thy hand findeth to do, that do with all thy 
might." Looking at the woman with a pleasant 
face, and answering in a kind tone, she told her she 
would take care of Nancy and have her to live with 
her own little children. Many blessings were 



66 The Home Circle. 

breathed on Jane Brace's head by the poor afflicted 
creature, who seemed to forget her own sorrows in- 
the happy prospect before her child ; and Jane went 
home that evening with a heart and step as light as 
the consciousness of a good action performed could 
make them. 

Every day while Nancy's mother lived she visited 
her. And when at length she died, and Nancy was 
motherless, she did not feel as if alone in the world, 
but laid her little face on the kind bosom of her 
friend, while that friend's soft voice spoke the words 
of comfort to her ear. 

Never did Nancy give her aunt (for by that kind 
and affectionate title was she taught to call her 
mistress.) any reason to regret taking her. It is true 
she was not more perfect than other little girls, but 
she was docile and affectionate, and Jane loved her 
very much. When she had done wrong, Jane told 
her of t'he necessity of being good, if she would wish 
to please her heavenly Father, just as she talked to 
her own little ones. 

She did not send Nancy to school as she did her 
own children, for she knew that probably Nancy 
would have to work hard for her living, and her 
hands and limbs must be inured in time ; but she 
made her labor light by sharing it, and by teaching 
her the best method of doing anything, and telling 
her the reason why. Lessons taught in this way are 
seldom forgotten, and Nancy soon became of some 
use. 



The Home Circle. 67 

Mary was but a baby when Nancy first came 
among them \ and the desolate heart of the stranger 
clung to her even more than to her aunt. Yet, 
perhaps, I am wrong — perhaps she only thought she 
loved the baby best, because she could caress it as 
much as she pleased, without the fear of being trou- 
blesome. She would plead to be allowed to nurse 
it, which however its mother would not permit, 
because its little frame was so tender that it might 
be injured ; but she would lay a sheepskin on the 
floor, and put the baby on it, and then let Nancy 
play with it for an hour or two at a time. The little 
one soon distinguished her from the other children, 
and would commence crowing and jumping, if it 
but caught a glimpse of Nancy's merry little face. 

This attachment continued ; and when in after 
years Mary married Ellwood Stewart, Nancy's heart 
went with her. Jane Brace was not long in dis- 
covering this ; and much as she valued Nancy, she 
was glad that it was so : for every mother considers 
her child's interest before her own. When it was 
first mentioned to Nancy, she would not hear of 
leaving her old home, and her kind aunt. But as 
Jane insisted on it, telling her that she would confer 
a favor upon both herself and her daughter, Nancy 
consented, though somewhat reluctantly, for she 
could not help fearing she was guilty of ingratitude. 

And now was Jane Brace fully repaid for all she 
had ever done for Nancy. Nancy was not only a 
help, in a domestic point of view, but a faithful per- 



68 The Home Circle. 

son in the great business of life, in training the 
family for heaven. 

As the children grew older, they understood 
Nancy's true position in the family, and treated her 
accordingly. While anxious to have her appreciated 
by the younger ones, they made it a far greater favor 
to be allowed to assist Nancy, than they did to assist 
each other. When none but themselves were 
present, or some intimate friend, Nancy sat with 
them, unless her duties called her elsewhere. Her 
manners were pleasant and agreeable ; why should 
they not be ? She had associated with those whom 
education and truth had refined from the time she 
turned from her mother's grave. 

What if she had not devoted her earlier years to 
school ? Her education was constantly, though 
silently progressing; and many a (so-called) lady 
might have taken a lesson from Nancy's quiet, self- 
possessed, and dignified manners. Her sense of 
propriety kept her from intruding. The children, 
who were taught to value her so highly, could not 
imagine why she should not sit at table with them, 
or anywhere else, let who would be present. But 
Mary Stewart, though willing at all times and at all 
seasons to show the respect for Nancy which she 
really felt, respected also the delicacy of feeling 
which prompted her to sit by herself, when any one 
with whom she was not well acquainted chanced to 
be their guest. 

Lizzy felt it .quite a compliment to be asked to 



The Home Circle. 69 

assist Nancy ; and after she had put by the doll she 
was dressing, and Martha had put away her patch- 
work, they went to a little room, or a large closet, 
(whichever persons would choose to call it,) and 
there were towels, washbasins, and soaps, with two 
or three great pitchers, all of which had water in 
them. There was a low washstand in one corner, 
and close by it stood a large bucket, to pour the 
water into, after they had bathed in it. To this low 
washstand Lizzy and Patty went, and sister Mary, 
who had put her sewing by, came in and poured 
some water from the great pitcher into the little 
washbasin, and put it on the low washstand, where 
the children could reach it nicely. Here they 
washed their hands, and wiped them on a towel 
which hung on a little frame. 

Lizzy then went to the kitchen, where she found 
Nancy standing by the doughtrough, cutting the 
bread into thin slices, and laying them evenly one 
upon the other. ", Sister Mary said I might help 
thee," said she, in a very pleasant tone. " What 
may I do first?" "Thee may bring the bread- 
plates," said Nancy. So Lizzy went to the kitchen 
closet, and getting the plates down very carefully, 
she carried them to Nancy, who laid the sliced bread 
upon them, cutting the slices right down through 
the middle. Elizabeth then carried the plates in, 
one at a time, and put them on the table, which 
sister Mary had already spread the cloth upon. 

There was a large pile of little plates on one 



70 The Home Circle. 

corner, and Martha was taking one of these at a 
time, and putting it in its proper place, saying 
softly to herself as she went around, "This is for 
father — this is for mother — this is for Elly," and so 
on, as she placed each plate. The knives and forks 
were in a box, and Mary was busy with them. 
When Martha's plates were all placed, she ran to the 
cupboard to get the salt-cellars, which were nicely 
printed when taken off the dinner table. They 
were upon the second shelf, where she could not 
reach them \ but in her zeal to help her sister, she 
clambered upon a stool, which tipped over just as 
she had grasped the salt-cellar ■ and down she came, 
oversetting the molasses cup, and breaking both it 
and the salt-cellar. Mary was just turning round to 
see what she was doing ; and catching her as she fell, 
prevented her hurting herself. 

Martha's face reddened very much, and she began 
to cry a little ; but Mary soothed her ; and finding 
she was more frightened than anything else, told her 
not to mind. " Oh ! but," said Patty, " I was going 
to help thee ; and only see how much trouble I have 
made." "Why, yes," said Mary, laughing a little 
to show Martha she did not mind the trouble, "if 
little girls could only be kept in molasses, I should 
have such a sweet little sister, should I not ? ' ' Martha 
now began to laugh too ; and Mary, telling her to be 
right still, went into the closet and brought from 
there the little basin, with water in it, and a nice 
soft towel, with which she wiped away the molasses 



The Home Circle. 71 

from her hands. She took off Martha's apron, which 
was very much soiled, and turning it in carefully so 
as not to smear anything with it, carried it into the 
closet. 

She then went up-stairs, and getting a clean apron 
for Martha, brought it down and put it on her. 
Mary then went to the kitchen, and tied on a very 
large apron which almost covered the skirt of her 
dress, it was so wide and long ; and brought a little 
tub of hot water, a dish cloth, and a dish towel, to 
wipe the shelf and dishes with. She tucked up the 
ends of her sleeves, and pinned them to keep them 
from slipping down ; then moved all the plates and 
dishes on which there was no molasses, up to the 
second shelf. She washed and wiped the few that 
were smeared, and putting the dish cloth down, 
gathered up all the broken pieces of the cup and 
salt-cellar. She put these in a safe place, where no 
one would be likely to cut his hands with them, 
and washing the shelf, wiped it as dry as possible. 

She carried the little tub, the cloth and the towel 
back to the kitchen, and put each in its proper 
place, and returned to the closet to rinse the 
molasses off of Patty's apron. She spread it on the 
frame to dry, intending to put it to wash on the 
next Second-day morning. After she had done all 
these things, which took her but a few minutes, she 
took off the great apron, folded it up, and put it in 
the kitchen till she should want it again. 

When Mary went in, she saw her little sister look- 



72 The Home Circle. 

ing a good deal mortified, and standing near the 
closet door. Mary smiled, and in a pleasant tone 
asked Patty to put the cup plates around, at the 
same time giving her the pile in her hands. Martha's 
face brightened at the thought that she might be of 
some use after all, and the table setting went on 
again. 

Mary arranged it very neatly, and although there 
was nothing which could be called a dainty, yet 
everything looked inviting ; the cloth, the knives 
and forks, and every article on the table, being so 
perfectly clean and bright. There was a small piece 
of oiled cloth spread for Elly's plate to set on ; but 
Martha could eat without smearing anything, and 
was therefore permitted to set her plate on the linen. 
The mother thought it better that all the children 
should sit with them at table, when there was no 
company ; as a little child learns so much more 
readily from example than precept. 

Very soon supper was ready, and Martha was told 
she might ring a bell, which was the signal for the 
family to come together. Mary sat at the waiter, 
that she might pour out the tea and coffee ; the father 
and mother sat at the other end of the table, with 
Lizzy on one side, and Martha on the other. Elly, 
with his little plate and oiled cloth, sat next to 
Lizzy, and up next the waiter sat Nancy, whose pet 
Elly was, and who undertook to supply his wants. 
Rebecca and Jane were at the side of the table oppo- 
site Elly and Nancy. 



The Home Circle. 73 

They sat silent for a minute or two, when Elly, 
feeling as if he could not keep still any longer, 
began saying, " sugar, sugar, sugar." Nancy looked 
at him very seriously, and shook her head. He was 
quiet ; and then Mary began to put the sugar and 
cream into the cups. 

After she had helped the older ones she put some 
milk into a cup, and pouring a little hot water in, to 
warm it, sweetened, and gave it to Nancy for Elly, 
who by this time was getting a little uneasy. As 
soon as he swallowed it, he commenced saying, 
' ' meat, meat, meat." And kicking his heels against 
the rounds of his high chair, seemed disposed to 
make himself as conspicuous as possible. Nancy 
took his little hands in hers, and looking him right 
in the face to fasten his attention, said very slowly 
and distinctly, " Elly must not talk now ; " and " I 
will give Elly what he is to have for his supper, and 
he must not talk anymore now." Elly looked at 
and evidently understood her, for he was silent for 
a little while until he forgot ; and then was quiet 
again when she looked at him. 

Ellwood Stewart considered his table as a domes- 
tic school, and encouraged his children to converse 
freely. He liked to hear their views and opinions ; 
and besides this, he knew children would be likely 
to eat hastily, and acquire slovenly habits, unless 
they found their meals made pleasant. As he did 
not wish his children to become epicures, he did not 
teach them that it was of consequence what they eat. 
7 



74 The Home Circle. 

But he did teach them to find pleasure in meeting 
together at the table, and conversing together. Un- 
less the family was assembled in the common room 
where they dined, the bell was generally rung twice ; 
the first time to give notice to any one who might 
wish to put away her w T ork, or to do anything likely 
to detain her a few minutes. 

Very seldom was there any excuse made for tardi- 
ness, for they all felt it pleasant to draw together. 
Besides, they were acquiring, at small trouble and 
expense, the virtue of punctuality. No allusion was 
made at meal times to any fault which might have 
been observed ; nothing mentioned which could 
mortify one child before another. 

While they were sitting at table this evening, 
Rebecca said, " But, father, what queer-looking 
dresses they must have worn in Thomas Ellwood's 
time ! Did the men wear rings, and ribbons, and 
laces? I wonder they could ever see each other 
without laughing." " Our eyes," said Ellwood, 
"become so soon accustomed to any style of dress, 
that it not only ceases to be ridiculous, but we think 
it positively becoming. Does thee not think rings 
and laces are pretty for women?" "Why, yes," 
said Rebecca, hesitating, "I think lace and ribbons 
very pretty, but not rings. I never liked rings, ear 
rings especially, since I read of the South Sea 
islanders wearing nose jewels. It seems to me a 
barbarous custom to have either nostrils or ears 
bored. But I don't know whether I would like to 



The Home Circle. 75 

have a finger ring or not. Thee knows I was never 
tried/' said she, archly. " Fairly answered/' said 
her father, smiling. "But suppose I give thee five 
dollars, will thee buy a ring with the money, or pur- 
chase a warm shawl for Sally Davis, who has so many 
poor children to support that she cannot clothe them 
and herself too, as warmly as she ought ? " Rebecca 
looked very serious, and said, "Why, father, thee 
knows I would buy the shawl for her. I would not 
dare to spend the money for a ring for myself, when 
she needed a shawl or anything else." " Well, nfy 
child," said the father, " I had intended to give that 
sum to Sally, but thee may spend it for her. Thee 
had better consult thy mother or sister how thee can 
do it most judiciously ; remembering that a single 
dime misapplied is of consequence to her. ' ' 

Ellwood Stewart was not poor, neither was he 
very rich, but he tried to accustom his children to 
look on money with a reference to its true value. 
He discouraged every unnecessary expense upon 
their own clothing, or their own pleasures; but 
placed the means of assisting others at their disposal. 
A child generally prefers giving to others. We 
acquire the habit of selfishness, as we are taught to 
indulge artificial wants. 

When Ellwood told Rebecca she might spend five 
dollars for Sally, she looked very much gratified 
indeed, and sat silent for some minutes, thinking of 
what dresses she might buy, what shoes with thick 
soles the children should have ; and then it suddenly 



76 The Home Circle. 

occurred to her that Sally slept very cold, and may 
be she had better get some calico for a comfortable, 
which sister would help her quilt. 

As she was revolving these things in her mind, 
Jane took up the conversation where she had dropped 
it, saying, " Well, I do not know much about the 
rings, but those long pointed shoes with the toes 
turned up and fastened to the knees, must have 
looked very funny ; and how could they ever walk 
about? I should think they would strike against 
each other, or against anything in the room.' , 
" These fashions grew like everything else," said the 
mother. "If we were to put such shoes on now, 
as our grandmothers wore, we should totter, and I 
think fall down. Don't thee remember those high- 
heeled shoes up in the great chest in the garret?" 
" Yes," said Jane, " Sarah put them on the last time 
she was at home, and they made her look so tall, 
only she could not walk very well in them, and we 
were afraid she would fall ; that was the reason she 
did not come down-stairs." "Well, those shoes, 
though so inconvenient to us, our grandmothers 
thought beautiful. They made the foot look smaller, 
and probably were introduced by some short person 
who wished to look taller ; but I do not think she 
had .such a thick heel put on at first. They must 
have been just a little raised, then a little more, and 
so on until they attained an inch and a half, if not 
two inches in height. And as to looks, we so soon 
become accustomed to any kind of dress, that it 



The Home Circle. 77 

seems graceful and elegant, no matter how repugnant 
to true taste. It seems to me that the dress which 
corresponds with the outline of the human form, 
and which is best adapted to its easy unencumbered 
movements, is most suitable to it, if our tastes in 
this respect had not become perverted." 

" But there was one thing which seems very hard," 
said Jane, her eyes filling with tears. " That was 
for Thomas to disobey his father, who was very kind 
to him before he came to be a Friend. It must have 
been very hard for Thomas to do anything which 
his father did not want him to do." "My dear 
child," said her father, kindly, " it was very hard, I 
do not doubt \ but even in this Thomas was re- 
warded by the feelings of peace and quietness that 
Almighty Goodness favored him to experience. 
And it may be that he was chosen as an instrument 
to break down the stubborn will of his father. Oh ! 
what joy for him, if by any means, even the sacrifice 
of himself, he might become conducive to his 
father's salvation. Of one thing we may be sure, 
our heavenly Father is over all, and sees all, and re- 
quires nothing of us without a reason. What that 
reason is we may never know in this life, but we do 
know that a ready obedience to his will gives us that 
peace which the world can neither give nor take 
away. ' ' 

Some neighbors coming in to spend an hour or 
two interrupted the conversation, which now turned 
on -general subjects, and the younger children going 



78 



The Home Circle. 



to bed pretty soon it was not resumed at that 
time. 

It was perhaps two weeks after before the ordinary- 
occupations of the family admitted of another story, 
though sister Mary was often seen with a large, old- 
looking book lying on her desk, from which she was 
taking notes ; and when at length they had an hour's 
leisure, in which the family might all be collected 
together, she produced a short manuscript, entitled 
6 ' James Parnell. ' ' 




CHAPTER VII. 

JAMES PARNELL. 

ONE time, almost two hundred years ago, a very 
good man, named George Fox, was confined 
in a prison because he felt it his duty to tell people 
when they were doing wrong. 

The people in those days probably did not like to 
be told they were doing wrong any better than we 
do in these, and as they had the power (which we 
have not) they put any one in prison who displeased 
them. 

To this prison went many persons to see George 
Fox ) and among others a boy, or lad, about sixteen 
years of age, named James Parnell. This boy, 
though so young, and brought up in a way entirely 
different, after conversing with George Fox felt that 
what he said was true, that is, that every person has 
that in his own breast which tells him when he does 
right. For in those days many said, and some 
actually believed, that certain men must be hired to 
devote their lives to studying the Scriptures in order 
to be able to explain their meaning. Just as if the 
Holy Spirit, which dictated the Scriptures, was not 
all-sufficient to give us grace to understand them for 

79 



80 The Home Circle. 

ourselves ; or just as if we were not the children of 
the same great Father, who willeth not that any 
of us should perish. Why should we hire men to 
tell us what to do, when the Holy Spirit himself 
condescends to dwell in our hearts, if we only pre- 
pare the temple for him, teaching us all things ? 

Very probably James Parnell had never before 
heard this doctrine advanced, yet he embraced it at 
once. He is said to have had an excellent literary 
education, which he must have been very diligent to 
acquire at so early an age. After making up his 
mind to do what he believed to be right, instead of 
being encouraged, loved, and honored, as we would 
suppose, he was rejected and cast off by his relations, 
nor do I know that he had a place wherein to lay 
his head. This, however, did not deter him from 
what he thought to be his duty. 

He saw those around him apparently hurrying 
onward to destruction, and he feared not to entreat 
them, even at the peril of his own life, to return to 
the true path. He went to Cambridge, and for 
preaching to the people was driven from the town. 
Still he loved them — still he felt as if he must do 
something for them — and he returned. He attempted 
to reason with the scholars, but they too, who ought 
to have known so much better, they too treated him 
very rudely and badly. No usage was too rough for 
him ; but he still continued to preach, though often 
buffeted and driven from town to town. 

When he was about eighteen years of age he went 



The Home Circle. 8i 

one summer day and preached to the people in a 
church, for at this time Friends had few or no meet- 
ing-houses to go to. He afterwards preached in a 
great meeting, which had been appointed by some 
of the Friends, and which was probably held in an 
orchard or field. At this meeting, which was in 
Colchester, many persons were convinced of the 
truth. He spent a week going about and preaching 
here ; and when some wicked person gave him a 
blow with a great staff, saying, "Take that for 
Christ's sake," he meekly answered, "Friend, I do 
receive it for Christ's sake." 

It is difficult to believe that the time ever was, 
still less, that within two hundred years, men were 
beaten, imprisoned, fined, and put to death, because 
they dared not do that which they believed it would 
offend the great Creator for them to do. But so it 
was. The Quakers, as they were called in derision, 
because one of them had said, " He trembled in the 
fear of the Lord," were preached against, and prayed 
against. A meeting was held for the especial 
purpose of preaching and praying for their over- 
throw. 

To this meeting James Parnell went ; and when 
the priest, who was hired for that occasion, said they 
were liars and deceivers, James desired him to prove 
it. He could not prove it, nor could those who 
were with him. Instead of trying to do so they 
ordered James to take off his hat. He answered he 
would rather leave the house than comply with their 



82 The Home Circle. 

orders, so he walked out ; but a magistrate followed 
him and committed him to prison. 

Here began those terrible sufferings which I mean 
to pass over as quickly as possible, for I do not think 
we can derive much other good from dwelling upon 
them than to learn how graciously our Heavenly 
Father enables us to support any pains of the body, 
if we can only feel conscious innocence and peace, 
and fix our minds upon him. 

James Parnell was not allowed to see any of his 
friends, and when his trial was to come on he was 
fastened to a chain, with some other men, and led 
about eighteen miles, being chained day and night. 

After being brought befoie the court he was 
charged with having created a riot ; which charge 
he so clearly refuted, that the jury could not find him 
guilty. But the judge, failing in his efforts to make 
the jury convict him, fined him forty pounds, which 
of course the poor homeless lad could not pay. The 
judge ordered him to be kept in the dungeon of a 
ruinous old castle until he did pay. He likewise 
ordered that none of his friends should come near 
him. 

The jailer's wife was a very wicked woman, and 
had a violent temper. She said many very wicked 
things to him, too bad for me to repeat. His 
friends, though they could not see him, brought him 
victuals, and a trundle bed to lie on. The first, she 
persuaded the other prisoners to take from him, and 
the last, she would not let him have at all, so that he 



The Home Circle. 83 

was forced to lie upon the damp, cold stones. The 
walls of this castle were immensely thick, and into 
a hole in the wall, like an oven, they thrust this good 
young man. 

This hole was about twelve feet from the ground, 
and there was a little ladder which reached about 
half-way up. The rest of the way he had to climb 
by means of the broken wall and a rope which hung 
down in front. This he was obliged to do whenever 
he needed food or drink ; for though his friends 
wanted him to have a basket and a cord to draw 
them up, the jailer and his wife would not permit 
him even this small indulgence. This hole was 
very damp, and his limbs became so benumbed, 
that as he was climbing up the ladder one day, with 
his victuals in one hand, he missed catching the rope 
with the other, and losing his balance, he fell on the 
stones, wounding his head, and bruising his body so 
much, that the people who took him up thought he 
was killed. 

They then put him into another hole, not so 
high up from the ground, but smaller; and so 
close that when the door was shut but little air could 
get into it. Here it seemed as if he would be suffo- 
cated ; but he was not allowed either to have the 
door opened or to go out. His friends and sufferers 
in the same cause loved the innocent boy very much, 
and offered any one of them to lie in this place in 
his stead, while the rest might take him away for a 
while so that he could recover. When he recovered. 



84 The Home Circle. 

they said he might come back again. But these cruel 
and misguided people would not suffer it. They 
would not allow him even to walk a little while in 
the yard. The door of his cell being left open once, 
he got out into a narrow walk between two high 
walls, which so incensed the jailer, that he shut 
him out there, though it was in the coldest winter 
weather. 

He lived about eleven months in this hard man- 
ner ; but his constitution gave way under such re- 
peated sufferings, and he closed his pure and virtuous 
life within the prison walls. 

Before his death his friends obtained permission 
to visit him. To one of these he said, " Here I die 
innocently. ' ' And afterwards turning his head to his 
friend Thomas Shortland, he said, "Thomas, I have 
seen great things; don't hold me, but let mego." 
Then after awhile, he said again, "Will you hold 
me?" and one replied, " No, dear, we will not hold 
thee. ' ' He had often said, that one hour's sleep would 
cure him of all ; and the last words breathed from his 
dying lips were, "Now I go." He then stretched 
himself out, slept about an hour, and quietly yielded 
his spirit to Him who gave it, and in whose service 
he died. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

MARY FISHER AND ANNE AUSTIN. 

THERE was a silence for some minutes after the 
father had concluded reading this mournful 
account. The eyes of the little girls were moist, and 
the tender-hearted Jane was weeping with her head 
laid on her sister's lap. 

The mother broke silence by saying, " This is 
indeed a sorrowful story, but there is one bright spot 
on which we may look. How very much his friends 
must have loved him, being willing to place their 
bodies in his body's stead. And how faithfully they 
attended him, never forgetting him, and never being 
discouraged by the rebuffs they met from the jailer 
and his wife, nor from the governor. They must 
have persevered through great difficulties to be able 
to see him at all. Oh ! with what a healing power 
the thought of the dear love of his friends must have 
come over the sick and wearied heart of James. 
They attended him constantly and received his last 
breath." 

"Yes," said Ellwood Stewart, "at that time so 
persecuted were the Friends, that three or four per- 
sons were regularly appointed by the meeting to 



86 The Home Circle. 

attend to those who were sick and in prison. These 
persons made it their business to go round to the 
different prisons where Friends were confined, and 
see that they had something to eat, and if need be, 
something to sleep upon. 

' ' This was so well known to be the case, that a 
very lazy man contrived to be put in prison with 
some Friends, that he might be maintained by them ; 
always taking care to have the best, and the most 
of any one present. However, the Friends soon 
detected him ; and, telling the governor he was not 
one of their number, the governor put him by him- 
self; though he tried by the most abject entreaties, 
such as no Friend would ever use, to get clear. But 
Friends did not depend helplessly upon the exer- 
tions of others. They exerted themselves to obtain 
a living — men, who had been brought up as gent le- 
gmen, employing themselves in the most menial 
offices, rather than live in idleness. They refused 
to do prison-work, however ; for they felt it was not 
right they should be in prison, and to do prison- 
work voluntarily, seemed like admitting the justice 
of their imprisonment. But what is this other manu- 
script ? ' ' continued he, looking at Mary. 

"I thought James Parnell's life was so sad and 
sorrowful, that I must have something more cheerful 
with it ; and as it is so short, I thought thee would 
be willing to read the second one too." 

" Certainly, " said her father. "But I must 
begin now, for I have an engagement this afternoon, 



The Home Circle. 87 

and you can converse about them when I am gone. ' ' 
So saying, he commenced. 

It was in the fifth month of the year 1656, that 
two young women, named Mary Fisher and Anne 
Austin, arrived at Boston, before there had ever been 
a law made against the Quakers. But before they 
came on shore, the deputy governor, who had proba- 
bly heard that Quakers were dangerous persons, sent 
officers on board the ship, who, searching their 
trunks and chests, took away about one hundred 
books which they found, and placed them at the 
disposal of the council, which ordered them to be 
burnt in the market-place, and by the common hang- 
man. The young women were brought ashore and 
committed to prison upon one proof only of their 
being Quakers. One of them, speaking to the 
deputy-governor, used the word "thee," instead of 
you. Whereupon this sagacious and wise deputy- 
governor said, he needed no more, for he now saw 
they were Quakers. 

They were shut up as prisoners, and supposed to 
be so dangerous in their doctrines, that a fine of five 
pounds was laid upon any one who should speak to 
them, even through the window. And lest this 
should not be sufficiently effectual, a board was nailed 
upon the window of the jail. That religion could 
not have had a very strong foundation which the 
breath of two young women was likely to overset. 

No one was even allowed to send them victuals ; but 
a man named Nicholas Upshall, who had lived many 



88 The Home Circle. 

years in Boston, and was a member of the church 
there, hearing with what severity they were treated, 
and fearing they would starve, sent some money to 
the jailer, sufficient to purchase provision. 

Their pens, ink, and paper were taken from them, 
and they were not suffered to have any candle dur- 
ing the night. After they had been kept in this way 
about five weeks, the master of a vessel about to sail 
for England, was bound under the penalty of an hun- 
dred pounds to carry them back, and to let no one 
speak to them while on board his ship. The jailer 
kept their Bible and their beds which they had 
brought with them, for his fees. 

Such was the treatment the Quakers first met with 
in Boston, and this from the hands of educated and 
professedly religious men, who had left the fair fields 
of their own native England, for the uncultivated 
wilds of America, rather than not have liberty of 
conscience, that very liberty which they now denied 
to the Quakers who sought a home among them. 
Nay ! so far did. their animosity extend, that Nicho- 
las Upshall, the person who furnished them with 
money, an old man of good character and belonging 
to their own church, was fined twenty-three pounds 
and banished out of their jurisdiction. The fine was 
rigidly exacted, and but a month allowed for his 
removal, although in the depth of winter. 

On leaving Boston, Nicholas went to Rhode Island, 
where an Indian prince offered him a new home, 
saying he " would make him a warm house. " 



The Home Circle. 89 

This prince once asked him, " What kind of a 
God have the English who deal so with one another 
about their God ? ' ' Well might the unsophisticated 
son of the forest ask this question, seeing the pro.- 
fessed followers of him whom they called the " meek 
and lowly Jesus," inflicting wrong and outrage upon 
each other, as well as striving their utmost to ex- 
terminate his own noble race. 

Of Anne Austin we hear nothing more. But 
Mary Fisher, about four years after she had been at 
Boston, and while she was still unmarried, felt it to 
be her duty to deliver a message which the Lord 
had sent by her to Sultan Mahomet the fourth, 
who at this time was encamped with his army near 
Adrianople. 

She proceeded to Smyrna, intending to go on 
from there : the English consul at that place 
would not permit her, but sent her to Venice. Still 
being impressed with the belief that she must see the 
sultan, she found another way open ; and, going 
alone, made her way to the camp. Here she per- 
suaded a person to go to the grand vizier, and 
tell him that an "Englishwoman had come, bear- 
ing a message from the great God to the sultan." 
The vizier sent an answer that she should have the 
opportunity of delivering it next morning. That 
evening she went into Adrianople, and next day 
early repaired to the camp again. 

Here she was received, and conducted to the sul- 
tan, who sat in state, surrounded by his chiefs and 



90 The Home Circle. 

great men, as he was used to receive' ambassadors. 
The sultan asked her, by his interpreters, if that was 
true which had been told him, that she had some- 
thing to say to him from the Lord God? She an- 
swered, " Yea." Then he bade her speak on. But 
she continuing in silence for a little while, it oc- 
curred to the sultan that she might be fearful of 
speaking before so many men ; and he asked her 
if she desired that any might go away before she 
spoke. She answered, " No." He then desired her 
to speak the word of the Lord to them and not to 
fear ; for they had good hearts, and could bear it. 
He charged her to speak his word, neither more nor 
less than he had commissioned her with ; for they 
could bear it. 

This simple English maiden, unawed and un- 
dazzled with the magnificence of an eastern court, 
proceeded to declare in a few guileless words, the 
testimony which she bore from the Almighty. The 
turbaned and bearded Turks listened with attentive 
seriousness to the word of Mary Fisher, who had 
periled her life a hundred times on her way thither 
with the words of Truth. When she had finished, 
the sultan asked her if she had anything more to say. 
She asked him if he understood what she did say, 
to which he answered, Yes ; and that what she had 
spoken was truth. 

He invited her to stay in his country, saying, they 
could not but respect one who would take so much 
pains as to come from distant England, with a mes- 



The Home Circle. 



9i 



sage from the Lord. Finding her unwilling to stay, 
he offered her a guard as far as Constantinople, 
whither she intended to go. She being firm in 
faith that an all-powerful Hand would protect her, 
this too was refused, although the sultan urged it 
upon her, telling her the way was dangerous, and 
full of perils to such a one as she ; and that he 
would not upon any account harm should befall 
her in his dominions. But she, fully believing she 
would be preserved by the Divine Master whom 
she loved and served, would not consent to any 
other protection than He vouchsafed. 

The Turks asked her what she thought of their 
prophet Mahomet? To which she answered, she 
knew him not, but Christ the true Prophet, the Son 
of God, the light of the world, him she knew. And 
concerning Mahomet, they might judge him to be 
true or false, according to the words or prophecies 
he spoke, adding, " If the word that a prophet 
speaketh cometh to pass, then shall you know that 
the Lord hath sent that prophet ; but if it come not 
to pass, then shall you know that the Lord never sent 
him." The Turks confessed this to be true, and 
Mary, having delivered her message, departed from 
the camp. She travelled to Constantinople, and 
thence home to England, without receiving " hurt 
or scoff. " 

To make her relation still more wonderful, it 
appears she understood not a word of any other 
language than her own. And besides this, we must 



92 The Home Circle. 

consider that women are not allowed to uncover their 
faces before the men in Turkey — a custom almost 
impossible for her to comply with. It seems, indeed, 
as if nothing less than divine assistance could have 
enabled her to perform her mission. 

After- returning to England, she married a man 
named William Bayly, of whom it was said, "As he 
was bold and zealous in his preaching, being willing 
to improve his time as if he knew it was not to be 
long, so was he valiant in suffering for his testimony 
when called thereunto." Of Mary Fisher, or rather 
Mary Bayly, we hear nothing more \ so that she 
probably was permitted to spend the remainder of 
her life in quiet. 



As soon as Ellwood Stewart had finished reading 
this, he took out his w r atch, and seeing it was time 
to go, said he must leave them. The weather was 
very cold, and there was a slight sprinkle of snow 
upon the ground. Two or three of his daughters 
started up at once to wait upon and assist him; and 
even little Elly dragged his great warm socks out of 
the closet, holding on to the strings and pulling 
them after him. 

Ellwood patted his little son's head, and said, " No, 
Elly, I thank thee. Father is not going very far, 
and it is not worth while to put them on." " Then 
we will put the buffalo robe in the carriage, any- 
how," said Rebecca, starting off after it. 



The Home Circle. 



93 



'Where there were so many eager hands to assist, 
everything was soon done ; and the father, muffled 
to the ears, or rather to the nose and eyes (they 
being the only features visible), by the affectionate 
care of his daughters, was permitted to escape from 
them. After he was in the carriage, Rebecca came 
running out to persuade him to have a warm brick 
to keep his feet from getting cold. This he refused, 
with a pleasant smile at her eagerness ; and, driving 
off, left her wishing she could have done something 
more. 




CHAPTER IX. 

"SEAR YE ONE ANOTHER'S BURDENS." 

IN our " meetings for discipline " certain ques- 
tions are asked, and among them there is one 
' ' query ' ' which runs thus : 

"Are poor Friends' necessities duly inspected, 
and they relieved or assisted in such business as they 
are capable of? Do their children freely partake of 
learning to fit them for business ? and are they and 
other Friends' children placed among Friends ? " 

And these questions, embraced in one query, 
imply much. They mean to ask if we really care 
for each other as brothers and sisters belonging to 
the same great family ought ? Do we remember to 
visit those who are poor and needy among us, and 
supply their wants just as we should like them to 
visit us and supply ours, if we were to exchange 
places ? They mean to ask if Friends take care of 
the little children who may be left with no one to 
provide for them, and bring them up with such 
advantages of education as may enable them to be- 
come good men and women, and good citizens, who 
may worthily perform their part in life. 

For the purpose of fulfilling the requisitions of 
94 



The HoJie Circle. 95 

this query, two or more persons are appointed in 
each monthly meeting whose business it is to " visit 
the poor, inspect their wants and relieve them." 

These Friends are desired to "guard against 
exposing the names or situations of their fellow- 
members,' ' for you know it is not pleasant to be 
under the necessity of being helped, and one does 
not like to have one's affairs talked over, except by 
those who are ready to help. 

Do you remember any appointment of this kind 
mentioned in the Bible ? I think you will find such 
an one in the first part of .the sixth chapter of Acts. 

The monthly meeting must of course provide 
money to meet the expenses incurred; and it is 
recommended, that "men and women Friends be 
open-hearted and liberal in subscriptions for raising 
and continuing funds for these purposes." 

Ellwood Stewart was one of a committee set apart 
to attend to such cases, and it was to see a widow 
whose husband had recently died, leaving her in 
destitute circumstances, that he went away from his 
pleasant fireside that cold, rainy afternoon. The 
husband, Samuel Wilson by name, had been a jour- 
neyman carpenter ; he had earned good wages and 
been able, by exercising a rigid economy, to put up 
and pay for a small neat house which he had also 
furnished. 

He had commenced to lay by a sum of money, 
intending to go into business on his own account, 
but had overworked himself, taken cold, and finally 



g6 The Home? Circle. 

died, after an illness which lasted so long that it con- 
sumed most of the money he had saved, in providing 
for himself and family. His wife had taken good 
care of him, and the friends in the neighborhood 
had assisted in nursing, leaving nothing undone 
which could conduce to his comfort. 

He left five children, all young, and the widow, 
worn down by anxiety and grief, was just opening 
her eyes to the stern truth, that their future welfare 
must mainly depend upon her ability to teach them, 
and her management of their small means of living. 
. She owned a good house, substantially though plainly 
built, which would probably need no repairs for some 
years. She had good and sufficient clothing for her- 
self and children, particularly as a mourning garb 
was not considered a necessary mark of respect in 
the society of which she was a member. She had 
good furniture enough, but none to spare, but as to 
money, there was not enough to provide necessary 
food for one year, and five little mouths needed a 
great deal to fill them. What was to become of them 
all ? As a member of our meeting she had the right 
to ask for advice and assistance, and it was in obedi- 
ence to this call that Ellwood Stewart came. The 
widow was named Rebecca ; she was glad to see 
Ellwood, who many a time before had visited and 
assisted her, and he was pleased to be able to go on 
such a mission of sympathy and loving kindness, to 
listen to her plans, show her what she could do for 
herself, encourage her, and assure her of the help of 



The Home Circle. 97 

Friends. He rejoiced to have it in his power to 
cheer a sorrowful heart. His wife was desirous of 
accompanying him, but felt that perhaps Rebecca 
could talk more freely to one than to both. Ell- 
wood needed to know exactly how she was circum- 
stanced, so Mary Stewart contented herself with 
sending her love, and as an evidence of it, she filled 
a basket with cakes, and nuts and apples, for the 
children, to be put into the carriage for her husband 
to take with him. When Ellwood arrived at the 
house, he saw two little faces with the noses flattened 
against the window panes. These little faces 
brightened with smiles, then disappeared for an 
instant, then reappeared before the window. Throw- 
ing aside the buffalo robe, he stepped carefully from 
the carriage. Four eyes with eager interest watched 
Ellwood as he took the hitching-strap and fastened 
his horse to the post in front : and as a merciful man 
is merciful to his beast, he took a small blanket, kept 
for the purpose, from the carriage, and spread it 
over the horse to shelter him from the bleak wind 
which swept around the corner. The next proceed- 
ing was the most interesting of all, for when the 
blanket was taken out the basket came into sight, 
and was recognized as an old acquaintance, because 
it had been there many a time before. With a smile 
and a nod to the little ones, who now left the window, 
Ellwood Stewart walked toward the door and gently 
knocked; there was a response — " walk in," and he 
entered the room where sat Rebecca and her children. 
9 



g8 The Home Circle. 

It was nicely arranged and cheerful-looking : a rag 
carpet covered the floor, the oil-cloth on the table 
looked fresh and clean, the stove was warm and 
bright, and a little shelf, made for the purpose, was 
placed under the south window where the sun could 
shine. Upon it stood some flower-pots now filled 
with the rich bloom of a scarlet geranium, a tea rose, 
with creamy buds just opening, and a pot of the ice- 
plant, all of which repaid the culture they received, 
by looking as healthy as if blooming out of doors in 
the fresh air of early summer. . 

Rebecca's words of greeting were pleasant, but 
her swollen eyelids showed that she had been weep- 
ing, and with kindly tact, Ellwood turned to the 
children. The eldest, a modest, gentle girl of eight 
years, held a little brother cuddled up in her lap, 
who shyly peeped out from under his dark lashes to 
see the visitor. " Scarcely older than my own little 
son," thought Ellwood, and his heart instinctively 
went out towards the bereaved family. Accepting 
Rebecca's cordial invitation to sit down, he called 
the little ones he had seen at the window to come to 
him, and he petted and' talked to them while the 
baby, unconscious of sorrow or distress, slumbered 
peacefully in its cradle. A few minutes enabled 
Rebecca to regain her composure and enjoy seeing 
her children, who were rummaging out the contents 
of the basket, where they found a perfect feast of 
simple luxuries. While they were so happily 



The Home Circle. 99 

engaged, Ellwood directed the conversation easily 
and naturally into the channel he wished. 

He found Rebecca earnestly desirous of keeping 
her children together, but uncertain whether she 
would be able to do so. They were bright, attract- 
ive little creatures, and already she had had offers 
from two families, each of which was willing to 
adopt one. She knew they would be kindly cared 
for, with more comforts and fewer privations than if 
they stayed with her ; but how could she bear to 
part with her children ? Nay, was it not her duty to 
keep them together if she possibly could, and culti- 
vate that sweet feeling of family affection which is 
such a source of enjoyment as to be one of our great- 
est earthly blessings ? 

Ellwood asked if she was willing to lay a statement 
of her husband's affairs before him, and this she was 
glad to do. The property was small, but willed to 
her without reservation; her husband very justly 
observing that it had been accumulated by their 
joint efforts, and that the true and faithful wife 
could scarcely fail to prove a true and faithful 
mother to the children he left. To her he intrusted 
all, to be used as she judged proper for their mutual 
benefit. The property consisted of the house and 
the ground upon which it stood, comprising three 
or four acres, part of which was enclosed as a garden, 
a small part planted with fruit trees, and the re- 
mainder reserved to pasture a cow, for which there 
was a frame building on one corner of the lot, just 



ioo The Home Circle. 

about large enough to have a good stall in it and 
room for a couple of tons of hay, beside an entry 
with a small feed-chest on one side. At the end of 
this entry was a closet snugly arranged, with all the 
tools needed about the ground and garden, now in 
their places in as good order as if put aside yester- 
day by the familiar hand, whose sturdy grasp they 
would know no more. The upper part of the build- 
ing was a kind of shop where some boards were 
drying, and there was also a large chest of carpenter's 
tools, a full supply and excellent of their kind. 
These Rebecca said could be sold if necessary, but 
she was loath to part with them, as they had been 
purchased with care, and, independent of any asso- 
ciation she might have with them, would be difficult 
to replace. She would like to keep them for her 
oldest boy, who bore his father's name, as some day 
she hoped to see him follow the same business. She 
did not know how to bear that anything connected 
with her husband, should go into the hands of 
strangers. 

In addition to her little home, there was still a 
small sum left of the money set aside as capital ; but 
not enough to live on one year, even with the most 
strict economy; but she had vegetables and meat 
enough in the house to last during the cold weather. 

Ellwood knew that Rebecca was an active, thorough- 
going woman, who would not sit down to fold her 
hands and give way to the deep depression she 
naturally felt. He knew she was worn with anxiety 



The Home Circle. ioi 

and nursing, together with a long confinement to 
the house; and that when spring came and the 
flowers bloomed, she would probably be attracted into 
the garden to work ; the fresh air and the upturned 
earth would strengthen her nerves, her energy would 
return, and she would lose her despondency in a 
determined effort to provide a comfortable living for 
herself and her children. Therefore he encouraged 
her by his assurances that at present he saw no need 
for her making any changes. He thought she would 
be able to keep the house so endeared to her, and 
also the children with her. He thought she could 
nearly maintain her family by her own exertions, 
and if she should not succeed entirely in doing so, 
66 friends would assist in supplying any deficiency." 
While she was so worn and weary, and her mind was 
so tossed, she scarcely knew the extent of her own 
capabilities. Now she needed rest for body and 
mind. He reminded her of the gracious promises 
made to the widow and orphan by One who never 
yet forsook his poor dependent children. Rebecca 
thanked him with tears in her eyes, but with a feel- 
ing of repose and confidence which astonished her- 
self; and as she bade him " farewell," and expressed 
a desire to see his wife, her voice sounded firmer 
and more assured. After he left, she turned to the 
children, and folding them to her heart, breathed a 
fervent thanksgiving that these had been spared, and 
that she had them to love and to labor for. Even 
the baby felt the influence of a new warmth, laugh- 



102 The Home Circle. 

ing and crowing merrily ; while Rebecca, refreshed 
and invigorated by the encouraging words of her 
visitor, allowed herself to sleep, instead of passing 
the night thinking of the times that were gone, and 
of those to come, with tears and sorrowful fore- 
bodings. 

Ellwood returned to his own unbroken circle with 
feelings of renewed gratitude towards the kind 
Heavenly Father, in that he had been permitted to 
" pour the oil and the wine " of consolation and to 
bind up the wounds of his poor fellow-traveller. 
How bright his own home looked, with the cheerful 
face of his wife, the happy smiles of his children, 
and the clasping arms of the youngest to welcome 
him ! And as he sat down in his comfortable arm- 
chair in the midst of them, after supper, to read 
letters from two of his absent ones, he said in the 
fulness of his heart: "Surely, the lines of my life 
have fallen in pleasant places.' ' 




CHAPTER X. 

LEM AND SALLY DAVIS 

SALLY DAVIS was a colored woman who came 
regularly on every Second-day morning through- 
out the year to help with the family wash. She was 
a strong, stout, able-bodied woman, who expected 
to do hard work, and was rather impatient of the 
kindness which would not allow her to lift the heavy 
tubs of water by main force and dash the soapy 
stream into the gutters, or go out into the chill and 
frosty air to hang the clothes upon the line, without 
putting something over her shoulders and -•■ire arms 
fresh from the warm suds. 

She used to say, ' i La, honey, nothing never hurts 
me nohow," and it was only by constantly looking 
after her like a child, that she was made to take 
proper care of herself. Besides her regular wages, 
Mary Stewart used to give her meat, flour, vegetables, 
or fruit, and also a good deal of outgrown or partly 
worn clothing, carefully mended or made over before 
it went into her hands ; for Sally had learned to use 
the needle late in life, and always considered sewing 
a task of no small magnitude. She would make 
great preparations, getting out a little, worn paste- 

ic3 



104 The Home Circle. 

board Dox, where she expected to find a pair of old 
scissors with one point broken off, an immense brass 
thimble bought of a peddler, two or three needles, a 
spool of coarse cotton, and a tangle of black patent 
thread, of which she occasionally purchased a skein. 
Half the time she could not find them ; but when 
she did, and the children were put to bed, and her 
tallow candle was stuck into an old tin candlestick 
without any lifter, and the fire was blazing up good 
and warm, and she had her patch ready to put on to 
the little garment which was only out of use when its 
owner was in bed, why then — Sally invariably fell 
asleep. She could sit straight up and sleep by the 
hour. Lem never disturbed her. " Poor soul," he 
used to say, " 'pears like she was tired," and reach- 
ing over he would put out the candle, which was a 
luxury, not a necessity, the whole family generally 
going to bed by the light of the fire. 

Sally's wants were few T , and she would have been 
quite able to provide for herself and children if she 
could have had the assistance of her husband ; but 
he, poor fellow, had suffered terribly from rheumatic 
fever, and was now nearly helpless in consequence. 
He could use his arms pretty well, but one leg was 
so crippled that he could not walk without a crutch. 
He was a runaway. In the limited circle in which 
Sally and he visited he was politely called a "come- 
away." He could tell a long story of hardship and 
abuse, of the longing for freedom and his steady 
purpose to obtain it, of his escape, his days spent in 



,, The Home Circle. 105 

marshes or woods, of his hunger, and worse still, of 
the thirst he endured ; of his travels by starlight for 
miles and miles, afraid to venture near a house lest 
the dogs should bark ; of two or three escapes when 
escape seemed almost impossible ; of his hearing " if 
he got among the Quakers " he would be safe ; and 
of his watching for a broad-brimmed hat after he 
found himself in a free State, and how he was 
directed to go to Mr. Stewart's, and of how he went, 
according to his instructions, to the front door in 
great fear and knocked ; and how he asked if Mr. 
Stewart was at home, always adding : " When I seed 
him, then I knowed I was all right." And he was 
right, for that hospitable door had never turned on 
its hinges to exclude the fugitive. The poor fellow 
never would acknowledge his real name, though he 
had once told Ellwood, but took that of Lemuel 
Davis, by which he was generally known. He was 
sober and industrious, and Ellwood kept him on his 
own farm as a laborer, the only work he was fit for. 
Sally was a Maryland woman, who, having been set 
free at her master's death, after a faithful service of 
twenty-eight years, made her way into Pennsylvania, 
and went to service at Ellwood 's a month or two 
before Lem's arrival. She was six or eight years 
older than he, and the two apparently made so little 
account of each other, that Ellwood and Mary were 
both surprised when they presented themselves one 
evening, and asked if they could be spared to go to 
the squire's to be married. Lem had on his usual 



106 The Home Circle. 

"go-to-meeting clothes/' set off by an old bell- 
crowned hat, caved in on one side, but still wearing 
an aristocratic air as having formerly belonged to a 
gentleman. He also wore a dark red and blue plaid 
neckerchief tightly wound around his throat, which 
kept his head in a very uneasy position, but added 
greatly to the dignity of his appearance, and a white 
shirt prepared specially by Sally for this festive 
occasion. The bride rejoiced in a new calico dress, 
with balloon sleeves spreading away from her broad 
shoulders, making her size quite impressive. She 
also wore a large cape of thick barred muslin, and 
her own hair was pushed back as far as possible and 
surmounted by a set of curls which once belonged to 
her young mistress in Maryland, who having no fur- 
ther use for them, bestowed them on Sally, by whom 
they were treasured up for state occasions. As the 
happy pair stood before Ellwood, explaining their 
intentions, it seemed evident that Sally had taken 
the initiative, and that she expected to make a good 
wife to Lemuel and take care of him. 

Ellwood Stewart had a small tenant house in the 
woods, where Lem and Sally went to housekeeping 
the next spring, and a more contented couple would 
be hard to find. Neither had ever before known 
what it was to have a home, and it seemed such a 
quiet neighborhood that Lem felt safe for the first 
time in his life. 

Things were just as bright after he became a crip- 
ple. Sally never allowed any one to pity her. She 



The Home Circle. 107 

would say: u What's the difference, I'd like to 
know? I thinks a heap of my old man ; he's 'nuff 
sight better'n some people's husban's." And he, on 
his part, had been so beaten about and abused in the 
old days — of which he bore many a mark — that to 
have some one to take care of and coddle him up 
was all he asked, and when his wife placed his chair 
in the sunshine and helped him to it he was happy. 

Sally managed to keep her house pretty clean, and 
had her little things in good order. There stood 
her bureau, with cover white as snow, a small look- 
ing-glass above it ; on the top were two cheap vases 
of colored glass, which in summer were filled with 
wild flowers, and in the winter with dried grasses, 
of which a full supply was provided by the children. 
There was always a fire on the hearth, and generally, 
a small earthen pitcher with a broken rim and the 
handle knocked off, was set near one corner of the 
chimney. This contained some bitter potion put on 
there to stew, or some "verb" tea. Sally was great 
for " yerb teas " and " sassafrac/' and often sent the 
children scouring through the woods or round the 
neighborhood for something of the sort. 

In her garden she grew a few vegetables; none 
of which seemed to take kindly to the soil except 
the cabbages, of which she raised immense heads, to 
be proudly exhibited as tokens of her skill. 

The Stewart children often came to see them; 
and Rebecca was a great favorite, particularly with 
the invalid, to whom she read the simple Bible 



108 The Home Circle. 

stories which touch the hearts of the unlearned and 
ignorant, as no others ever do. But whether she 
read of Bible hero or Bible saint, whether she read 
a hymn, or the small items of news gathered up for 
the "Village Record's" world in a nut-shell, Lem 
generally made the same comment, " That's mighty 
nice, Miss Becky." 

When Ell wood proposed to give his daughter five 
dollars to spend for Sally Davis, immediately there 
rose before Rebecca's mind the vision of a pair of 
shoes for Henrietta Maria, who was at that moment 
running through the woods barefoot, caring nothing 
for the weather ; a pair of trousers for Alexander, 
with real suspenders, in place of the tatters he wore 
hitched up by one strap \ a new dress for the baby 
whom Rebecca herself had named Angeline, and 
who had such pretty shy eyes, and already knew her 
quite well ; a shawl for Sally \ and a new blanket 
for Lem, who was always hovering over the fire in 
the winter time, he was so cold. The older children 
were living " out at service," and were provided for 
at their respective "places." 

Rebecca talked the matter over with her mother, 
who was as much interested in her plans as she could 
desire, and, without any attempt to discourage by 
telling her how insufficient she would find her funds 
for all these articles, asked what she thought the 
most needful among them. Rebecca could not tell 
which ; so she concluded she had better see the 
whole family, and then she would be better able to 



The Home Circle. 109 

judge. She did not want Sally to know anything 
about her " secret " as she called it, as a great part of 
her pleasure consisted in imagining Sally's surprise 
and delight when presented with the things. 

Accordingly, the first bright pleasant afternoon, 
the whole party, Rebecca, Jane, Lizzy, Patty and 
Ellwood started for the " woods " in high glee. 
Andy saw them coming along the path, running, 
jumping, skipping and kicking up the fallen leaves. 
He ran into the house with the news, and his mother 
came to the door immediately, with Angeline in her 
arms. " Come in, honey; come in, Miss Becky; 
come in, all of you; Lem, here's Miss Becky and 
the children;" then suddenly changing her voice, 
" You Andy, what you about thar ? what you a starin' 
at ? hain't you got no manners ? give the young ladies 
some cheers." Using her "company" voice again, 
"Miss Becky, here's a cheer for you, and one for 
Miss Janey ; here's a stool for you, Miss Lizzy, and 
Miss Patty' 11 have to set on the foot of the bed, I 
reckon. 'Pears like I hain't nuff cheers when quality 
comes." Sally had two voices, one for company or 
"quality" as she said, and one for home service 
among the children, which she used with great effect, 
alternately on such occasions as this. 

Lemuel was sitting close by the fire that blazed 
cheerfully up the wide chimney, being supplied by 
the fallen branches of dead wood, which the children 
brought in. He was propped on two chairs, and it 
suddenly came before Rebecca's mind, how pleasant 
10 



no The Home Circle. 

a large easy chair would be for him, though she was 
sure it would cost a good deal of money — more than 
she had, perhaps ; " but would it not be nice ? " 

The children were not still a minute, and Ellwood 
did not even sit down, but kept glancing admiringly 
at the little dark-skinned baby, who reached out her 
fat dimpled arms for Rebecca to take her, and it 
came across Rebecca's mind, "How pretty Angy 
w T ould look with a nice calico dress, which I can 
make, and maybe some red beads around her neck. ' ' 
Then she doubled up Angy's hand into a fist, which 
looked something like a horse-chestnut for size and 
color, and called Ellwood to come to her and see it. 
The fair child gazed upon the dark one, lovingly, 
then pressed his rosy lip upon the closed fingers, while 
he laughed and cooed to her. 

The woods covered a large extent of ground, and 
a fence had been put across, which separated it into 
two portions — one, called the "big woods," lay 
farther from the house ; while that part in which the 
house stood was called the " little woods/ ' Into 
the former the Stewart little children were never per- 
mitted to ramble by themselves on account of getting 
lost ; and though both were entirely safe otherwise, 
nothing could have tempted Patty to get over the 
fence even to gather a flower which bloomed on the 
other side; she was not much acquainted with natural 
history, but had picked up an idea that lions, bears 
and copperhead snakes were all living on the far side 
of the fence, and that any little girl who went over 



The Home Circle. hi 

without . protection from an older person, was in 
danger of her life. As she never explained a feeling 
which she supposed every one else shared, it was a 
long time before she ventured there alone. 

Henrietta Maria, who was not in the house when 
they came, now ran in, and the children crowded 
round to see what she held in her hand ; these 
proved to be five or six chestnuts ; and all started 
off to see if they could find some more. Henrietta 
Maria took them to a tall chestnut-tree, fortunately 
within the limits of the " little woods," though at 
its extreme edge. Here they raked and scraped 
among the leaves, now and then picking up a nut, 
or finding an open burr filled with the prettiest, 
downiest, little brothers, all lying side by side ; and 
shouts of " I've got one," "I found two close to- 
gether, and here's another;" "Here's a burr, not 
opened ; " " How many has thee ? ' ' and " Oh ! oh ! " 
from poor little Elly, who had tried to pick up a 
burr, went up all together. Presently there was a 
loud, quick call from Lizzy, " Come, come quick; 
here's the dearest little snake, and he'll be gone — 
do come." They all ran, but the snake would not 
wait, and was already some distance from the place 
where Lizzy had found it, under a piece of old fence- 
rail. It was gray, and they liked to see its pretty 
gliding" motion. Even Patty was not afraid of any 
snake which might be on this side of the fence. 



CHAPTER XI. 

REBECCA TAKES COUNSEL 

IN the meantime, while the children were enjoy- 
ing their chestnut frolic, Rebecca read to 
Lemuel as usual, and tried to decide upon what 
she had better buy. So many things were needed, 
and so many would be nice, that the poor child 
really did not know where to begin. She was quite 
oppressed with the responsibility of spending five 
dollars to the best advantage, and ready to wish she 
had not underaken to do it, as she told her mother 
as soon as she returned. 

There was company in the house, so that her 
mother had only time to give her a loving kiss, and 
promise assistance as soon as she was at leisure. 

The very next day the mother took her sewing, 
and calling her little daughter to sit beside her, 
asked her how she could help. 

"Why, mother/' said Rebecca, "they want 
everything. Poor old Lem sits on a hard, straight 
chair, and has to put up his crippled leg on another, 
and mother, I think he just gets worse and worse ; 
and Sally has no shawl only that old ragged brown 
one thee gave her, and it is hardly fit to wear now, 

112 



The Home Circle. 113 

for she wraps it round Lem to keep him warm. 
Neither Retty nor Andy have any shoes — and I 
don't suppose they even think of stockings — and 
Andy's trousers and Retty's frock are all torn into 
jaggers— " 

" What are jaggers, Rebecca? " 

"Why, tatters, I suppose; but Retty said 'jag- 
gers,' and somehow it seemed worse than tatters, and 
her clothes are just hanging in great strips where 
they caught in the briars and bushes ; Andy's are no 
better, and he has no coat at all. When he goes 
away from home, over to the store or anywhere, he 
has to put on an old one of his father's ; and, 
mother, he does look too funny," said Rebecca, 
laughing, and then suddenly beginning to cry. 
Her heart was so pitiful towards poor little Andy, 
whom she had seen two or three days before, going 
for a pound of sugar, six cents worth of tea, and a 
quart jug to be filled with molasses. His coat was 
threadbare, the sleeves were turned back, the collar 
came up to his ears, and the tails were within an 
inch or two of the ground ; however, it kept him 
warm, and his eyes shone and his white teeth 
glistened as he started on his errand, for he had six 
quarts of chestnuts, which he was going to ask the 
store-keeper to take to Philadelphia with him to sell 
the next time he went in the big wagon. After a 
few little sobs, which the mother did not appear to 
notice, Rebecca began again in a low voice, " Retty 
hasn't any winter petticoat, for I asked her." 



ii4 The Home Circle. 

Her mother considered a while, and then said, 
" It is quite right to feel sorry for the poor and help 
them all we can ; but Lem and Sally do not feel 
exactly as thee would under the same circumstances. 
They are inured to the cold, and have at any rate 
the means of keeping up a warm fire all the time, 
as they may have as much wood as they want. And 
if poor Sally only knew how to sew, and could patch 
up a little, they would not be nearly so ragged. 
We must take care that Retty and Angy have a 
better opportunity for learning. For the present we 
must do as well as we can for them," continued she, 
" and if my little girl will be right earnest, patient, 
and industrious, perhaps we can make them comforta- 
ble for the winter. We must fit out Andy first, as he 
seems to be the worst off. I have some clothes, 
which Henry brought from school ; he had outgrown 
them, and with a little alteration, I think they will 
do for Andy. If I cut and fit a coat, will thee stitch 
the seams ? It will be hard work for a little girl that 
does not like to sew." 

"Well, mother, I will try," was the reply; "but 
I can't work the button-holes, can I? " 

"Even that may be learned/' said the mother, 
w T ith a smile. " But I shall try to cut so as to keep 
the buttons on, and button-holes in. The pantaloons 
will not need much to be done to them, and we will 
ask Nancy to help us." 

" Mother, may Nancy work at the coat, and may 
I make the pantaloons? " said Rebecca, who did £0t 



The Home Circle. 115 

in the least fancy the job of sewing the hard, stiff 
cloth; but the mother gravely said, "No, it is not 
at all proper to be benevolent at the expense of other 
people." Rebecca blushed at her own selfishness 
and gave up the point. 

"Perhaps Janey will knit a pair of suspenders, 
real suspenders, to wear in place of that old strap." 

" Thee may ask her," replied her mother. " Now 
the chair comes next." Rebecca was getting quite 
cheerful again; "the way seemed to open" for so 
much to be done. " There is an old arm-chair in the 
garret, set away to be mended. It will have to be 
braced with an iron band. We will ask father about 
that ; and if he can make it firm and secure, we will 
take some hemp sheeting, cut it to fit the back and 
arms loosely, tack it around with nails, and stuff it 
with the tags of wool." (These tags were left, when 
the best was taken to be carded into long rolls and 
spun into yarn, which was woven into flannel and 
knit into stockings.) "Sally must give the tags 
another washing first." 

" It must have a cover, too," said Rebecca. 

" Yes, it must have a cover; and that will have 
to be paid for out of thy money, for I have nothing 
suitable. Grace Sidney was here yesterday, while 
thee was away ; she had just come from the store, 
where, she tells me, there is a piece of new goods, 
called ' Domestic. ' It was made with four threads 
of blue to two of white running into a stripe. She 
said it was not only pretty, but good and strong, and 



n6 The Home Circle. 

could be washed without fading — Jenny Ellis had 
tried some with soft soap. It is lower-priced than 
calico, being only twenty-five cents a yard — we can- 
not get our linen woven for that. Let us see," 
she continued, slowly, "I think it will take three 
yards to cover the back and front of the chair, allow- 
ing a piece to come below the cushion ; another yard 
will cover both arms, and we may count upon a 
yard and a quarter for the cushion." 

" That makes five yards and a quarter," said Re- 
becca; " that will be a dollar and a quarter, and 
seven cents more, I suppose ; one dollar and thirty- 
two cents, for an easy chair. Oh, mother, what a 
nice woman thee is ! I'm so glad thee's my mother. 
I should never have contrived all this myself. We 
can just get everything, I do expect — Sally's shawl, 
and Retty's petticoat, and the baby's dress, and 
maybe the beads, too." 

"The beads are easily managed, though we can- 
not get the red corals thee admires so much ; at 
least, it would not be right to spend money for them. 
But there are those pretty seeds in the garden, ' Job's 
tears ; ' why will not they do ? " 

"I never thought of them — so they will; and 
I mean to tie them with a piece of red ribbon, 
bought with my own money, not father's, and 
they will be just as pretty. Mother, Angy has 
got four teeth and they are as white as white 
can be. Won't she look pretty with the beads? I 
made a wreath of the beautiful leaves of the maple, 



The Home Circle. 117 

one day, and put it round her head, and she was just 
as sweet.' ' 

When Rebecca's tongue once started to talk about 
Angy, one never knew when it was going to stop. 
So her mother was obliged to interrupt her in order 
to take Henrietta Maria's skirt under consideration. 
When Rebecca's thoughts were brought back to the 
matter in hand, she said : 

" Retty must need a thick petticoat ; hers is so 
thin: She says she isn't cold, but how can she help 
being? And, mother, I wish I could get a pocket- 
handkerchief for her, she never had one in her life — 
never a real good one, I mean, with her name marked; 
and she just wipes her nose with the skirt of her dress; 
and once I saw her take a corner of her mother's old 
brown shawl, and that isn't nice, mother, is it?" 

" No, dear, it is not nice ; and the next time thee 
goes there, thee may take two or three pieces of old 
muslin and hem them for handkerchiefs, and try to 
teach Retty better habits ; but the child is not to be 
blamed for what she cannot help. There is an old 
saying, ' One-half of the world does not know how 
the other half lives,' and those who are very poor 
often fall into untidy habits because they have not 
the means of providing the little articles which we 
consider indispensable. I have no doubt that if 
thee was to ask Retty which she would rather have, 
a ribbon or a handkerchief, she would say a ribbon." 

"So should I," said the truthful girl, "before 
yesterday ; because I never thought anything about 



n8 The Home Circle. 

it — no more than if the handkerchiefs grew on the 
bushes where we spread them to dry." 

" We will now see what can be done about a skirt. 
Nancy is pretty tall, and there is an old linsey one 
of hers that she is ready to give away. Suppose we 
take that, turn it upside down, making a good hem 
around the part that is so little worn, cut off the 
bottom and gather it, and sew it to a waist ; I have 
some pieces of linsey like it, and can make a waist 
of them, good and warm ; and then Rebecca must 
try to work the buttonholes." 

" I will try," she replied, " I guess they will not 
be so very hard to do, and they won't show." 

" Never trust to that," said her mother; "always 
do thy work well. ' ' 

"Now for the shoes," said Rebecca. "Well, we 
cannot make the shoes ourselves ; but when Philip 
Gawns comes around again, perhaps father will 
allow him to make some coarse, strong shoes for 
Retty and Andy, which will cost about a dollar a 
pair. Now, mother, I do think I might get Angy's 
dress next, may I? " 

" What will be done about Sally's shawl?" 

" I guess she will have to wait for the shawl ; poor 
little Angy must have a dress, and I want it red — 
bright red." 

"It may as well be red as any color," said the 
mother, "and after thee. gets the coat done, thee 
may go over to the store and see what there is to be 
had. ' ■ And so the red flannel dress was decided upon ; 



The Home Circle. 119 

but it cost so much, that there was but little left in 
Rebecca's hands, when she laid the account, which 
run thus, before her father : 

5^ yards domestic stripe, at 25 cents $1 31 )£ 

2 pairs of shoes, |i 00 each 2 00 

1)4 yards red flannel, 50 cents 75 

Received for Sally Davis 5 od 

Balance due 9ZH 

"Well done, little woman, " said her father, to 
whom her mother had given an account of the whole 
proceedings — making special mention of Rebecca's 
faithfulness in sewing, a taste for which she did not 
possess, and was therefore the more to be com- 
mended, when she put aside her own inclination. 
"This is very well, indeed," he said, "and what is 
to be done with the balance ? ' ' 

"I don't know for certain," was the reply of the 
pleased daughter, " but Retty and Andy have a good 
many chestnuts and walnuts ; and we think, maybe, 
that Joseph Dunhower will take them to town when 
he goes in again ; and if they sell pretty well, perhaps 
the money he gets for them, and these ninety-three 
cents, will buy a shawl for Sally. I wish it would, ' ' she 
added. She had worked so hard for the family, that 
she had become very much interested in the homely 
details of their lives. 

" Has Joseph been spoken to about this?" 



120 The Home Circle, 

"Yes," said Rebecca, "I spoke to him myself, 
and asked him to buy the shawl, if he had enough ; 
and a right pretty one, too, if he could, with bright 
colors. Father, it is not wrong to like bright colors, 
is it? Just look at the flowers; and the brighter 
they are, the prettier they are." 

"No, dear child, it is not wrong; my taste, 
probably, would differ from thine; but I was think- 
ing," he said, with a little smile of amusement, 
"what a business-like turn my little daughter had 
taken ; and as she has conducted this affair so far 
creditably, I am ready to supply any deficiency in 
the means of purchasing this wonderful shawl. So 
thee may tell Joseph Dunhower from me, to get 
a good substantial one, and I will see that he is 
satisfied." 

Joseph understood his business, and rejoiced 
Sally's heart by bringing an excellent "Waterloo" 
of bright scarlet, with fringes of the same. It was 
all that could be desired ; and Rebecca used to 
watch to see Sally flame up through the woods with 
it spread across her broad shoulders, the admiration 
of the whole congregation to which she belonged. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE PRESENTATION. 

YOU want to know what they all said when 
Rebecca presented the things, do you? 
They were all ready ; that is, the gifts were all 
ready the last evening of the old year. The chair 
had been brought down and mended by Ellwood 
Stewart's own hands. Mary had tacked the sheeting 
on and stuffed it with the tags of wool ; she also 
made the cushion, and the mother fitted and cut the 
covers. Now it was complete, and Ellwood was 
obliged to sit in it a while, to satisfy the children by 
pronouncing it all right. The coat and pantaloons 
were made, and Rebecca had rubbed up a set of 
brass buttons in order that they should look stylish. 
The skirt was turned, and really looked very substan- 
tial with a new waist, and the baby's dress was 
finished. Rebecca had bound the wrists and neck 
with a soft black silk, that the flannel might not 
chafe Angy's tender skin. The whole family by this 
time entered into the spirit of the affair. Mary 
made two white aprons, one for Henrietta Maria and 
one for Angeiine. Nancy knitted a pair of long 
woollen stockings for Lemuel, and Janey a pair of 



i22 The Home Circle. 

suspenders for Andy. Lizzie dressed a rag baby, 
over which she held a long consultation with Patty 
and Jane respecting its color. Should it be white 
or should it be black ? White was finally decided 
upon as prettier and more convenient for pencilling 
in eyes, eyebrows, nose and lips, which it fell to 
Lizzie's lot to make. A black silk cap answered in 
place of hair. 

Patty made a pincushion of red flannel, and her 
mother gave her pins to stick so as to make a large 
S for Sally. Patty thought it quite beautiful. 

Several plans were proposed as to the manner of 
presenting these gifts. Patty suggested that each 
should carry something, and all would rush into the 
house together. Lizzie replied that they could not 
carry the chair. Some one said the man might carry 
the chair. Then it was found that the man was 
going to church several miles away, and would not 
return until the afternoon. Some thought of one 
way and some of another. Their father and mother 
listened to them as they planned and contrived, but 
seemed unable to settle upon anything. 

When the little chatterboxes paused, their father 
said : " Suppose we take the 6 Red Rover/ pack the 
chair and all you little ones in with your bundles, 
and Elly and I drive over the fields. Will that do ? " 

" Oh, father, do, do! That is so nice, and that 
is the very plan ! " came from the lips of the smiling 
little girls. The " Red Rover" was a large sleigh 
painted a bright red, which was used in the winter, 



The Home Circle. 123 

when the snow was on the ground, to carry the 
grain to and the flour from the mill, and for many 
other purposes about the farm, often taking the 
place of a wagon. The morning of the new year 
came clear and bright, and though there was not 
much snow upon the ground, there was enough for 
the " Red Rover" to cross two or three fields and 
run a short way upon the woodland path. Ellwood 
put the chair in the ample sleigh, packed the little 
girls and their bundles around it, sat down in the 
chair, and taking Elly on his lap and the reins in his. 
hands, drove through the big farm-yard gate and 
across the fields. He had directed the man to put 
the bars cut of the way the evening before, as there 
was no stock to wander off. 

He knew very well that Rebecca would rather he 
would not go into the house, for she wanted to see 
what Sally would say, and was afraid she would not 
act naturally before her father. So he set the chil- 
dren, the chair and the bundles down at the corner 
of the house, and taking Elly upon the back seat, 
which had been left in on purpose, turned his horses 
and drove homeward. He had no bells, and it so 
happened that no one saw or heard him, or knew 
*he company was at the door. Rebecca arranged her 
small procession. She and Jane were to walk in, 
carrying the chair between them ; and Rebecca had a 
little speech ready. Lizzy and Patty were to follow 
immediately after and stand behind her, as soon as 
they could close the door. They knocked, and 



124 The Home Circle. 

Sally's voice said, " Walk in." They walked in, the 
chair between them. Rebecca intended to say : 

" Dear friends, Lemuel and Sally Davis, we have 
brought you some tokens of our esteem and affection, 
and we all wish you a happy New Year/' What she 
did say was: "Here's a chair for Lem;" and as 
the others followed, "There's some more things for 
the rest." 

Lem was sitting by a blazing fire, his wife's old 
brown shawl wrapped about his shoulders, toasting 
his legs and luxuriating in the warmth on one side 
of him, but shivering with cold on the other — his 
poor old blood was so thin, and never warmed by 
exercise. He slowly turned his head when he 
heard Rebecca's voice ; and as the chair was brought 
into view, his face beamed with delight. 

" Dat for me, Miss Becky ? " 

"Yes, Lem, it is for thee; and see what a nice, 
soft cushion there is, and a warm back and arms for 
thee to lean against." 

"It's mighty nice, Miss Becky," said Lem, as he 
gazed admiringly at the chair. "You's a good 
chile. I know'd little missy wouldn't forgit de ole 
man." 

"Won't thee try it now, Lem? Father said it 
was just right." 

"Yes, it's mighty nice, mighty nice, missy; but 
it 'pears like I can't get up very well this mornin' ; 
I've sich a misery in my back." 

The children, however, were so desirous of seeing 



The Home Circle. 125 

him fairly installed in his new possession, that Sally 
told him she " would histe him up," which she easily 
did in her strong arms, and supported him on his 
feet, while the old chair was taken away and the new 
one substituted, the poor patient cripple making no 
complaint at his forced position, but sinking back 
with such an air of relief, that they were glad the 
change was safely over. He was a man of few words 
and could only say, "It's mighty nice, Miss Becky; 
thank you, thank you. I know'd you wouldn't forgit 
the ole man." Then leaning back, he allowed him- 
self to simmer off into a doze, while Rebecca un- 
fastened a bundle and distributed its contents. First 
came the coat and pantaloons, upon which the glitter- 
ing buttons principally attracted Andy's attention, so 
that he giggled and giggled, showing his white teeth 
and rolling his eyes around, till his mother brought 
him to order : 

"You Andy, tell the young ladies you's mightily 
obligated, and den go up-stars and put on that thar 
coat, and them trousers, instead of starin' at them 
like as you never seed nothin' afore." 

Andy willingly obeyed, particularly as it gave him 
the opportunity of cutting a few capers by way of 
venting his feelings. The first thing he did was to 
turn heels over head three times; then he laid 
the articles on a "chist" with the buttons in full 
view; but finding further expression necessary, he 
turned over again, and standing on his head, rattled 
his heels against the wall. Then he resumed his 



126 The Home Circle. 

usual position, and looked at himself in each but- 
ton, making faces all the time. This concluded, 
he indulged himself by dancing Juba vehemently, 
patting with both hands to keep time, a proceeding 
which brought up his mother. 

" You Andy ! what's you 'bout thar? Get dressed 
right smart and come down-stars, or I'll be arter 
you with a stick and put away your close in the 
chist, where you can't get 'em — foolin' that way 
when quality's in the house." 

Thus admonished, he restrained himself, and put- 
ting on his new apparel, which effectually sobered 
him, he was so fully impressed by his dignity, and 
by the fact that he actually was wearing a pair of 
real suspenders, that he felt as if he was "goin' to 
meetin'," and dared not exhibit any levity. Putting 
on the new shoes, he could not forbear walking to 
the wdndow, under pretence of looking out, in order 
that he might hear them " squeak." 

In the meantime, Rebecca had dressed the baby, 
and Henrietta had assumed the garments provided 
for her, Sally laughing, smiling, scolding and prais- 
ing, all in a breath. 

" La, Miss Becky, if you don't beat all. I al'ays 
said missis had the bes' chillens ever was. You 
Henrietta Maria, why don't you thank Miss Becky 
and Miss Lizzy, and Miss Janey and little Miss Patty? 
they're a heap too good to you; come yer till I 
button yer waist. Lem says to me this mornin', 
says he, Til be boun' Miss Becky'll be here afore 



The Home Circle. 127 

noon, and bring me somethin' • ' but la ! chile, I 
thought he was jes taikin'. Now, here you be, sure 
nuff. That's a mighty nice cheer." Lem was rous- 
ing up a little, and caught the last words. 

" Hi ! ole woman, I know'd Miss Becky would not 
forgit me ; an' you may have all the bed to yourself, 
now. I'm goin' to set in this cheer. I'm so com- 
for'ble. I don't want no bed no mo'. Thank you, 
missy, thank you ; ' ' and again Lemuel subsided. 

Poor Henrietta was so abashed that she had 
nothing to say. She could have talked fast enough, 
if her mother had not been by, urging her to have 
"some manners, couldn't she?" Sally, however, 
made up for all; and at length Angeline was set 
down, red-frocked, white-aproned and beaded ; her 
pretty eyes shining, and her two white little teeth 
showing, " Oh, so sweet," as Rebecca said, when 
she kissed her. 

Sally had talked incessantly, and expressed so 
many thanks, that Rebecca began to feel a little 
queer about giving her the shawl — not knowing 
Sally's capabilities for bearing any more. It had 
been put aside, and entirely escaped her observation. 
Now Rebecca untied the string, took off the wrap- 
pings, produced the brilliant-hued article, unfolded 
and refolded it, so as to bring the corners together, 
gathered it up in her hands and threw it across the 
broad shoulders. 

Then Sally was dumb. Like the queen of Sheba 
before Solomon, "'there was no more spirit left in 



128 The Home Circle. 

her." She did the most unexpected thing. Taking 
Lemuel's vacated chair and placing it close beside 
him, she sat down in perfect silence, rigid and up- 
right ; the shawl surpassed her brightest dream. For 
an instant none of the children knew what to say or 
do ; but Lizzy, who had a keen sense of the ludi- 
crous, began to laugh, and this of course started the 
others. Henrietta Maria, Andy, and even the baby 
joined in — not one of them knowing what they were 
laughing at — and Sally returned to common life. 

The blessings which she and Lemuel showered 
upon the children were too earnest and sincere to be 
lightly recorded ; but I will try to copy the words 
of a hymn — " hyme" they called it — which they 
sung for the little girls before they went home. 
You cannot imagine the mournful, pathetic cadence 
of the chorus, which always thrilled through Re- 
becca's nerves when she heard it — the pathos of 
imprisonment and slavery, reaching afar off towards 
thanksgiving and praise. 

i. 
And who are these that are robed in white ? 
Come and see, 
Come and see. 
The voice of the Lord says, Come and see. 
They must be the children of the Israelite, 
Come and see, 
Come and see. 
The voice of the Lord says, Come and see. 
Come and see, 
Come and see. 
The voice of the Lord says, Come and see. 



The Home Circle. 129 

IT. 

They pass over Jordan's rolling tide, 

Come and see, etc. 
The blessed Master walks by their side, 

Come and see, etc. 

in. 

For these are they that passed through the flood, 

Come and see, etc. 
And all the hosts of Pharaoh withstood, 

Come and see, etc. 

IV. 

And who are these that stand at the gate ? 

Come and see, etc. 
The Lord's patient people that stand and wait, 

Come and see, etc. 



There is room in heaven for you and me, 

Come and see, etc. 
Where all shall be white, and all shall be free; 

Come and see, etc. 

The children left Sally rejoicing in her new shawl, 
and Lemuel revelling in the warmth and elasticity 
of his chair where he could change his position by 
placing his hands on the arms, and lifting himself 
a little, a luxury he had not known since he became 
so crippled. 

It was nearly dinner-time when they reached home, 
and there they found Robert and William, who came 
together, intending to stay a few days. Henry and 
Sarah had no vacation at their school, or they would 



130 The Home Circle. 

have liked to have joined the merry group ; but they 
were not forgotten. The mother packed a large box 
full of nuts and cakes, which she sent to them by 
the stage. 

Time passed on rapidly ; there was a good deal 
of sewing to be done, and many visitors ; among 
whom the most frequent was Charles Hilton. 

It was not until the middle of the second month 
that Mary brought a manuscript to her father, con- 
taining the story of Catherine Evans and Sarah 
Cheevers. The weather was cold and blustering; 
so they all liked to sit in the warm and cheerful room 
and listen — Elly quietly building a fence around his 
sheep, with some little wooden blocks. 




CHAPTER XIII. 

THE STORY OF CATHERINE EVANS AND SARAH 
CHEEVERS. 

IN the 14th cnapter of Corinthians the 34th and 
35th verses run thus: " Let your women keep 
silence in the churches 5 for it is not permitted unto 
them to speak ; but they are commanded to be under 
obedience, as also saith the law. And if they desire 
to learn anything, let them ask their own husbands 
at home ; for it is a shame for a woman to speak in 
the church." 

Paul probably used these words in relation to the 
women of Corinth who, out of curiosity, vanity, or 
the desire for admiration, had made themselves un- 
duly conspicuous, by proposing questions which were 
more likely to lead to confusion than to edification. 
Let this exhortation be addressed to whom it may, 
it is not likely he meant to forbid such women as 
Priscilla, the wife of Aquilla, who, with her husband, 
accompanied Paul, and joined with him in "setting 
forth the way of the Lord more fully " to Apollos, 
an "eloquent man and mighty in the Scriptures." 
Nor did he intend to censure the " four daughters of 
Philip who prophesied." And he certainly did not 

131 



132 The H o m e Circle. 

imply that Tryphena, Tryposa, or " Persis the be- 
loved, who labored much in the Lord/' were not 
doing so properly and with good effect. 

Women are the first teachers. The mother is the 
first teacher that the new-born immortal knows, and 
it is simply impossible to tell where her sphere of 
action begins or where it ends. Jesus never implies 
an inferiority on the part of woman, she who was 
" last at the cross and earliest at the grave." 

The emotional and sympathetic nature of women 
peculiarly fits them for teaching, as experience 
proves, and why should they not exercise their gifts ? 

The "Friends," in advance of other religious 
societies, early admitting this truth, have made no 
attempt to place restrictions on the sex, but have 
rather aided the development of all spiritual gifts in 
woman as well as in man. To this end they have 
not only allowed her to participate in the outward 
government of the church, but she is called to a more 
extended sphere of usefulness as a teacher or as a 
missionary, and is assisted to perforin her duty as 
shown to her by the light in her own mind. 

We first hear of Catherine Evans and Sarah 
Cheevers — two devoted women friends and compan- 
ions — as travelling in Scotland in the year 1654, but 
no particular incidents of their journey are mentioned. 
In 1658 we hear of them again : they had taken pas- 
sage in a ship sailing from Plymouth to Leghorn, 
their voyage lasting thirty-one days. They found 
some of their own friends and countrymen at Leg- 



The Home Circle. 



L33 



horn, among whom they distributed books and 
advice, as occasion offered, without apparently giv- 
ing any offence. From here they took passage in a 
Dutch vessel, bound for Alexandria, as they under- 
stood ; but the master of the ship, falling in with 
another vessel going to Malta, concluded to accom- 
pany it, though, as the account states, " he had no 
business there." Catherine became very much dis- 
tressed, as she had good reason to be, at such a 
prospect, knowing that in all human probability her 
sufferings would be great. " Oh ! " said she to her 
companion, "we have a dreadful cup to drink at 
that place." As the ship sailed into the harbor of 
this beautiful island she stood on the deck looking 
at the people swarming upon the walls to see the 
vessels come in, and wondered in her heart if they 
would destroy her and her friend, when an inward 
voice breathed into her consciousness : "If we give 
up to the Lord, he is sufficient to deliver us out of 
their hands ; but if we disobey our God, all these 
could not deliver us out of His hands." And with 
that consciousness all fear of man was taken 
away. 

At that time the island of Malta belonged to 
Roman Catholics, and was governed and controlled 
by the order of St. John of Jerusalem, a monastic 
society. These societies were bigoted and cruel, 
using all the allurements and persuasions in their 
power in order to induce persons to join their church; 
but failing that, they used the harshest means to 



134 The Home Circle. 

frighten them into doing so. Catherine well knew 
the bitter persecution she was likely to encounter. 

The next day, the first of the week, Catherine and 
Sarah went on shore and were met by the English 
consul, who asked them what they came there for. 
They answered and gave him some of their books, 
then accepted his kindly invitation to come to his 
house. Many persons came to see them, and listened 
respectfully while they spoke of the things pertaining 
to salvation. At night the two women returned to 
the vessel to sleep. The next day they went into 
the city again and visited the governor, who told 
them that he had a sister in the nunnery who was 
desirous of seeing them. They of course were glad 
of the opportunity of getting access to the nuns, to* 
whom they distributed a number of books, to which 
no objection seemed to be made. They were accom- 
panied by a priest, and as they passed through the 
chapel, he desired them to bow before the high altar, 
a mark of reverence which they refused as idolatrous. 
They were allowed to go out and make their way to 
the English consul's, under whose protecting roof 
they remained for several weeks ; but we may be sure 
the offence was neither forgotten nor forgiven. 

Once, Catherine went into a church during the 
time of worship, and kneeling down she began to 
pray. The priest who officiated put off his surplice, 
and kneeling near her, remained so until she had 
finished. Probably neither understood the language 
of the other, and the priest took her for a pilgrim 



The Home Circle. 135 

worshipping at holy shrines, for at the close of her 
prayer he offered her a coin, which she refused ; so 
he put it into the hand of her faithful companion, 
who, supposing it was meant as alms, handed it to 
him again and showed him her own purse, which 
was amply supplied for themselves and for others if 
need be. Interested in their appearance, the priest 
endeavored to learn who and what they were — Cal- 
vinists, Lutherans, or Catholics — to which they 
replied, they "were true Christian servants of the 
living God." The people around were also very 
curious to learn what it all meant, but abstained from 
any rudeness or incivility. 

Some tinte after they went to another church or 
•cathedral at the time of the administration of the 
sacrament. The splendor of the building, the pomp 
of the service, the lights and the music, so affected 
them that they stood weeping and trembling so vio- 
lently that they disturbed the congregation, many of 
whom were afraid of them and shrank away. At 
length, unable to restrain their feelings, they went 
out, still weeping and trembling, through the streets, 
where they were looked upon with wonder if not 
suspicion. 

All this time they remained at the house of the 
consul, who was bound to protect the English. He 
did not understand their mission, but endeavored to 
keep them under his own roof; never willingly suf- 
fering them to go out, though the governor made no 
objection. They became suspicious of the consul, 



136 The Home Circle. 

and told him that they were afraid something to 
their prejudice was in agitation, adding, that u Pilate 
would do the Jews a service, and yet w r ash his hands 
in innocency. ,, He, in turn, declined to believe 
that they were messengers of truth, and the contro- 
versy ended with a remark from one of the women : 
" It will be well with us, but it will not be well with 
thee. ,, 

It seems their suspicions were well founded. One 
day the consul's wife brought some food. On her 
entrance Catherine says she " was smitten as with an 
arrow to the heart," a voice telling her, " she hath 
obtained her purpose, ' ' by which it appears that the 
duplicity of the consul was owing to his wife ; but 
our information upon this point is not clear. 

Catherine could not eat, she could only weep and 
pray. With all her fortitude, all her devotion, she 
was but a poor, weak woman, and dreaded bodily 
suffering as we dread it. The consul came and told 
her " the Inquisition had sent for Catherine Evans 
and Sarah Cheevers on account of letters received 
from Rome," adding that he did hope they would 
not be detained. The consul spoke falsely, as they 
afterwards learned, for he knew then that a room 
had already been prepared for them in the prison of 
the Inquisition ; and they also learned that the consul 
might easily, and by virtue of his official position 
was bound to have sent his unwilling guests away 
before the shadow of the " black rod" had ever 
fallen upon them. 



The Home Circle. 137 

The Inquisition, or " Holy Office/' was a tribunal 
instituted by the Roman Catholic Church for the 
discovery, repression, and punishment of heresy, 
unbelief, and other offences against religion. Its 
officers were called inquisitors, whose special duty 
it was to discover and prosecute offences of this 
class. 

The proceedings of the inquisition are so different 
from those of any other court in the civilized world 
that I must tell you something about them. Any 
person who was suspected of heresy, that is, of an 
opinion not in accordance with the Catholic Church, 
was liable to be arrested and put into prison, and 
there kept Tmtil it suited the judges to bring him to 
trial. Many were kept for years without knowing 
of what they were accused. The proceedings were 
conducted secretly. A man was not confronted with 
his accusers, and very often did not even know who 
they were. The evidence of an accomplice of theirs 
was admissible, and as if even this were not enough, 
the person accused might be put to torture in order 
to extort a confession of guilt ; after which he might 
be imprisoned for life or put to death, at the will 
and pleasure of the inquisitors, who were often very 
bad men, and used their power for their own wicked 
and selfish purposes. It is no wonder that two 
women in a strange country where they never in- 
tended to go should dread this fearful prison, from 
which they could scarcely hope to escape with their 
lives, and that they should reproach the consul, who, 



138 The Home Circle. 

false to them and false to himself, allowed this injury 
to be inflicted upon his countrywomen when he 
might have saved them. 

An inquisitor with his black rod (the badge of his 
office), the chancellor, and consul, accompanied 
Catherine and Sarah, who were to be examined by 
the lord inquisitor himself. He asked many ques- 
tions as to what new light this was of which they 
talked, and how did this light come to be lost since 
primitive times ? The women replied that it was no 
new light. It was the same light the prophets and 
apostles had borne testimony to. It was given to all 
men, but they did not heed it by reason of the dark 
night of apostacy which had overspread the world. 
The lord inquisitor did not argue or attempt to 
convince them of error. He took a shorter method, 
and simply told them they must change their minds 
and obey man or they would be punished by man. 
They replied, they could not change their minds, 
and with regard to the punishment meekly added, 
" The Lord's will be done." 

The inquisitor and consul went away, leaving the 
unprotected women in the custody of the " man with 
the black rod" and the keeper of the prison, who 
put them into a small inner room which had only . 
two holes instead of windows to admit light and air. 
The place was so hot that they feared they would 
suffocate. The winter climate of Malta is delightful ; 
but in summer the heat is extreme, and the bright 
light reflected from the limestone rocks is apt to in- 



The Home Circle. 139 

jure the sight. The vine and the olive grow there, 
figs and oranges. Malta is the place where St. Paul 
was shipwrecked ; but as the account states, which 
you may find in the latter part of Acts, he was more 
kindly treated than our poor Friends, who were de- 
prived of their liberty and made miserably uncom- 
fortable so far as regarded their bodies. 

It was not long until they were again brought up 
for examination, no one being allowed to counsel or 
assist them. But there was an invisible Power near 
upon whose mighty arm they rested, and he never 
failed them, as he has never failed any trusting, faith- 
ful child who seeks to do his will. 

On this occasion they were asked their names, the 
names of their husbands, the number of children 
they had, what was the name of their parents, and 
finally, why they came there. To the last inquiry 
they courageously replied, they " were servants of 
the living God," and had come in obedience to his 
command to call them to repentance. 

On the third examination, the English consul 
being present, the friends were separated from each 
other, and Sarah was put upon trial alone. She was 
asked if she was a true Catholic, but endeavored to 
evade the direct question, replying that she was 
a true Christian, worshipping God in spirit and in 
truth. Upon this a crucifix was held before her, and 
she was told to swear upon it that she would speak 
the truth. She refused to swear, reminding her 
accusers that Christ had said, "Swear not at all." 



140 The Home Circle. 

The consul joined in the attempt to persuade her, 
assuring her that none should do her any harm. It 
was all in vain \ she knew in whom she trusted, and 
would not allow herself to be moved from under- 
standing the words as a literal and plain command. 

She was asked about her books, about George Fox 
and other matters. Then again, why did she come? 
How did the Lord appear unto her \ and how did she 
know what the Lord required at her hands. To the 
last question she replied, " Since the Lord signified 
to me that his living presence should go with me, I 
have found him to perform his promise : for I do 
feel his living presence." 

Two days after this, Catherine was called upon to 
go through a similar ordeal, the inquisitors offering 
the crucifix with the command to swear to speak the 
truth, to which she replied, with quiet dignity, " I 
shall speak the truth, for I am a witness for God ; 
but I will not swear, since a greater than any magis- 
trate has said, i Swear not at all ; but let your yea 
be yea, and your nay, nay : for whatsoever is more, 
cometh of evil.' " 

One of the inquisitors said, " You must obey the 
justice, and he commands you to swear." 

She returned, " I shall obey justice ; but if I should 
swear, I should do an unjust thing : for the just 
Christ said, ' Swear not at all.' " 

She was asked many questions with regard to her 
belief in Christ, to all of which she answered fully 
and freely, being glad probably of the opportunity 



The Home Circle. 141 

of doing so. You may remember that it was her 
intention to go to Alexandria, and she was now 
asked what she would do there, or what she would 
do if she went to Jerusalem. She had but one reply 
to make : she would do the will of God, and if he 
opened her mouth to call the people to repentance, 
she would speak as she was bidden. She was then 
asked a question, which should never have come from 
a Christian's lips, as to whether she did see the Lord. 
She quietly answered in the words of Jesus to the 
woman of Samaria, " God is a Spirit : he is spiritu- 
ally discerned." 

It was the old fable of the wolf and the lamb. It is 
no matter how meekly the lamb replies to the wolf, 
when the wolf thirsts for its blood. Probably no 
submission on the part of Catherine and Sarah, short 
of an entire renunciation of their principles, would 
have satisfied this arrogant court. The consul, who 
does not seem to have foreseen the effect of his 
double-dealing on them, came to them, and with tears 
in his eyes told them he was as sorry for them as for 
his own flesh. If this was true, he could not do any- 
thing to assist them, or undo the mischief, as the 
matter had passed out of his hands. It was said that 
he had received money from the authorities for 
delivering them up ; and now he had become pos- 
sessed by a slavish fear of some calamity befalling 
him, so that he could enjoy nothing. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

CATHERINE EVANS AND SARAH CHEEVERS CONTINUED. 

IT seems to have been a regular part of the pro- 
ceedings of this tribunal, to call up the pris- 
oners day after day, sometimes asking trivial ques- 
tions, sometimes those more serious ; but steadily 
and persistently wearing out the patience of the 
most forbearing, until some inadvertent admission, 
or some apparent discrepancy, gave it a hold upon 
its victim, never to be loosened without a death- 
struggle. 

The next examination was cruelly severe ; threats 
were freely- used ; and after a long series of questions 
on the part of the inquisitors, and answers on that 
of the women, the latter were told that they must 
agree to certain doctrines under penalty of losing 
body and soul, otherwise the Pope would not set 
them at liberty for millions of gold. The meek 
reply was, t ' The Lord hath provided for our souls, 
and our bodies are freely given up to serve him.' ' 
They were reviled and ridiculed ; told that every one 
was laughing at and mocking them; but laughter 
and mockery could not move their steadfast souls. 
They were threatened with imprisonment for life, 
142 



The Home Circle. 143 

between the dreary walls of the inquisition, and told 
that this was done for their own good. They 
answered, " The Lord hath not committed the 
charge of our souls to the Pope, nor to you : he hath 
taken them into his own possession. Glory be to 
His name forever." The constancy and firmness 
of these two women must have commanded admira- 
tion, but won no favor from the hard-hearted friar, 
who had them in charge, determined to compel them 
to submit to Romish rule. For this purpose it was 
necessary that the body should be made to suffer 
until it begged for relief. Catherine and Sarah, 
free-born English women, were entitled to the pro- 
tection of their consul, being charged with no crime. 
They were locked up in a room so hot that it was 
thought impossible for them to live long in it, nor 
could they have lived, if they had not been sustained 
by a Power greater than their own. In addition to 
the heat, they were annoyed by swarms of gnats, 
which stung them so severely that, what with the 
irritation and the great heat, their faces were swollen 
as if by small-pox, so that persons were afraid to 
come near them. 

More examinations, and these were so frequent, 
and continued so long, that the poor exhausted 
Catherine became ill, so that she was confined to 
her bed for a couple of weeks ; during which time, 
she was visited by two friars, the chancellor and the 
" inquisitor with the black rod." Sarah was ordered 
to go out of the room by one of the friars, who 



144 The Home Circle. 

talked in a rude, angry manner to Catherine, grow- 
ing more harsh until he threatened her with blows. 
She was no coward, weak and defenceless as she was, 
so replied : " Thou art not of the apostles' doctrine, 
for they were no strikers. " He did not strike her, 
though he had the will to do so ; perhaps he was 
restrained by the presence of the others. He told 
her that he had brought a physician to see her, out 
of charity, as she was ill. She answered, " The Lord 
is my Physician and saving health." Infuriated by 
this independence with regard to him and the help 
he offered, he savagely told her, that she and her 
friend would be whipped, then burnt, that very 
night ; and still Catherine answered, " I do not fear : 
the Lord is on our side ; thou hast no power but what 
thou hast received, and if thou dost not use it to the 
end for which God gave it to thee, the Lord will 
judge thee." 

These words, with her undaunted bearing — for 
well she knew the friar used no idle threat — so con- 
founded friar, chancellor and inquisitor, that they 
retired, leaving her alone. The uneasy friar sought 
out Sarah, and complained to her that Catherine had 
called him a worker of iniquity. 

"Did she?" said Sarah; "and art thou without 
sin?" 

"Yes," the friar replied, he was. 

" Then," said Sarah, quaintly, "she hath wronged 
thee." 

They never knew exactly what was intended ; but, 



The Home Circle 145 

late that evening, they were startled by the beating 
of the drum, and a proclamation made at the prison 
gate which they thought might be to carry the friar's 
threat into execution immediately; but the night 
passed without further alarm. In the morning the 
drums were again heard, and guns fired, which they 
supposed to be the signals of the hour of their sacri- 
fice, for which they had been looking ever since they 
were put in prison — being fully resigned, ready to 
die the most painful death, if their dear Lord and 
Master so pleased to permit ; but the hour passed on, 
and the sacrifice had not been required. 
13 




CHAPTER XV. 

CATHERINE EVANS AND SARAH CHEEVERS CONTINUED. 

CATHERINE'S illness continued for a long time, 
and a physician attended her. He, too, tried 
to convert her from her own faith. He would kneel 
down by her side to pray ; and when he found his 
prayers unavailing, he threatened her with the most 
awful punishment, such as it is not in the power of 
man to conceive ) and then he would become en- 
raged that his reasonings, prayers and threats were 
alike powerless to move her steadfast soul. Catherine 
was so ill that Sarah was obliged to contemplate the 
probability of parting with her ; in which case, she 
knew her own sufferings would be far greater. Yet 
even in this strait, she found herself submissive to 
the will of the Lord ; willing, too, that Catherine 
should be released from her trials, and go to rest in 
her eternal home, "where the wicked cease from 
troubling." Doubtless sweet visions rose before the 
mind of the weary traveller, of the New Jerusalem, 
where it is promised, "Behold! the Tabernacle of 
God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and 
they shall be his people, and God himself shall be 
with them and be their God. And God shall wipe 
146 



The Home Circle. 147 

away all tears from their eyes ; and there shall be no 
more death, neither sorrow, nor crying ; neither shall 
there be any more pain ; for the former things have 
passed away." And she remembered the promise, 
" He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and 
I will be his God, and he shall be my son." 

Sarah's faith was not to be so sorely tried. Her 
faithful friend and companion began to grow better, 
though it seems little short of a miracle that she 
should, in the close and stifling atmosphere which 
they breathed. The room was so exceedingly hot that 
they were fain to rise from the bed and lie on the 
floor, with their mouths at the chink of the door, in 
order to get a breath of purer air. Their skins were 
parched, their hair fell off, and they often fainted. 

They wrote to the inquisitor, complaining of this 
hot room. Instead of being sorry for them, he was 
angry, and took away their inkstand. He had taken 
their Bibles before ; and now, when he was remon- 
strated with, on account of taking away their private 
property, as a needless severity, he told them they, 
their goods, and their lives, too, belonged to the 
inquisition. 

Unable to make any impression on the minds of 
these two women, who lovingly supported each other 
as sisters in the truth, it was concluded to try the 
effect of separation. Catherine in anguish took 
Sarah's arm, and clinging to her, made a pitiful 
appeal: "The Lord hath joined us together, and 
woe be to those who would separate us. I had 



148 The Home Circle. 

rather die with my friend here, than part from her." 
The incensed friar left them together, and for five 
weeks their door was never opened. Then the 
doctor said, Catherine must have air or die. The 
door was then set open for six hours a day, until 
such time as Catherine should be better, which was 
in about ten weeks more. 

A third attempt was made to separate them, which 
was successfully carried out, as the monks insisted 
that " they corrupted each other; " and that if they 
were parted, they would learn to yield to monastic 
authority; but, as the account adds, "the monks 
saw themselves disappointed ; for the women were 
afterwards stronger than before, the Lord fitting 
them for every condition." 

Some, not all, of these friars and monks no doubt 
honestly believed it to be their duty to force their 
own religious opinions upon the unwilling strangers, 
as otherwise they could not be saved, just as we 
snatch a little child from the fire, in which it does 
not see the danger. We must remember this, or 
we, too, shall be uncharitable. 

Threats having proved unavailing, it was deter- 
mined that a different plan should be tried. Possi- 
bly the inquisition was afraid to proceed to ex- 
tremities with English women; for Englishmen 
were powerful on the seas, and would have been 
likely to resent any insult from another nation, 
though they themselves were sometimes very hard 
upon the poor Quakers. 



The Home Circle. 149 

The monks said to these women, "All our holy 
women do pray for you, and you shall be honored 
of all the world if you will but turn to us." Then 
it would be represented to them, " that a small com- 
pliance on their part was all that was needed, but 
that they would do nothing at all." 

Interview after interview, examination after exam- 
ination, succeeded each other ; but to no effect. An 
attempt being made to induce Sarah to bow before 
the crucifix, she refused to even look at it, saying : 
"The Lord saith 'thou shalt not make unto thyself 
the likeness of anything that is in heaven above^ or 
in the earth beneath, or in the water under the earth. 
Thou shalt not bow to them, nor worship them, for 
I, the Lord, am a jealous God.' " Upon this, the 
friar called for irons to chain her ; she bowed her 
head towards him, and said, "not my hands and 
feet only, but my neck also, for the testimony of 
Jesus." The friar did not put the chains on her; 
perhaps he did not intend to do more than frighten 
her. 

At the time of their imprisonment, the building 
in which the inquisition was held needed some re- 
pairs, and, perhaps, additions. The workmen were 
employed upon it for about eighteen months ; during 
which, many persons of consequence visited the 
place, giving the women opportunities which they 
were not slow to embrace, of speaking to them of 
the truths in which they believed, and for which they 
were ready to lay down their lives. The monks, of 



150 The Home Circle. 

course, were unwilling to allow this, and frequently 
threatened them, but to no purpose. They spoke 
fearlessly of the " light of Christ' ' as shown unto 
them. Probably the monks would have done more 
than threaten, but the lord inquisitor and the mag- 
istrates were more lenient ; the former giving orders 
that pen, ink, and paper should be given to them 
again, and that they should be allowed to write to 
their friends in England. Indeed, it was thought 
that they would have been liberated if the monks 
would have agreed ; but the monks " worked might- 
ily against it," and to them was attributed the order 
for their separation, one of them telling Catherine 
that she and Sarah "should never see each other's 
faces again." 

Poor Catherine continued an invalid, and her 
sickly appetite refused the coarse and meagre fare of 
the prison. One of the more merciful of her jailors 
asked Sarah if she would prepare food for her friend. 
She gladly complied, and was also willing to wash 
all her linen, by which means they contrived to 
communicate with each other every day. In this 
time of distress the friar one day said to Catherine : 
" You may free yourself from misery when you like. 
You may make yourself a Catholic and go where you 
will." Adding eagerly : "I would lose one of my 
fingers to have you join the church." Day after 
day, week after week, month after month, and year 
after year were these poor women subjected to this 
severe imprisonment as to their bodies, while they 



The Home Circle. 151 

were tempted by every specious argument which 
could be presented to them by men versed in the 
ways of the human heart, to deny their faith. 
Wearied by their persistency, Sarah once exclaimed : 
" I won't be a Catholic ! I will not turn, though 
you tear me to pieces ! I believe the Lord will en- 
able me to endure it I" 

And what about the husbands and children left in 
the dear English homes ? Doubtless these two 
women, who were so faithful and affectionate to- 
wards each other, remembered the still closer ties 
which bound them to their families ; doubtless they 
remembered the soft clasp and the loving, earnest 
eyes of those little children into whose faces they 
might never look again, with yearning affection ; but 
they loved the Lord more, and they felt that his 
presence was around and about them, nearer and 
dearer than loving husband or child, and stronger to 
lean upon. They knew that He pitied and would 
take care of them, and for- His dear sake they were 
willing to give up all else. It was wonderful to see 
how fear was taken away from the poor weak women, 
one so ill and both so suffering. 

Sarah was told that she should be put where "she 
could see neither sun nor moon," probably a dun- 
geon where many other poor creatures were languish- 
ing, as she well knew ; but her faith was unfailing. 
She replied : " You cannot separate me from the love 
of God, in Christ Jesus, put me where you may." 
Another threat she answered with, " Though thou 



152 The Home Circle. 

hast the inquisition, with all the countries around 
about it, on thy side, and I am alone, I do not fear 
thee. If there were thousands more against me, the 
Lord is on my right hand, and the worst mine 
enemies can do is to kill the body." 

The monk said she should never go out of that 
room alive, to which she courageously replied : 
" The Lord is sufficient to deliver me; but whether 
he will or no, I will not forsake the living fountain 
to drink from a broken cistern. " The monk used 
every effort to intimidate her in vain, and, furious at 
his want of success, ran to the lord inquisitor, who 
only laughed at him for attempting it. 

We talk of men being brave on the field of battle, 
where they are excited by the commotion around 
them, by the beating of the drum, by the bursts of 
triumphant music, by the cheers of their fellow-men, 
and by the hope of fame, the brilliancy of glory. 
They become reckless of danger, and leap like tigers 
on their prey, feeling nought and caring for nought 
in the wild rush of the furious tide of passion surg- 
ing through the veins. This half-animal courage 
cannot compare with the calm endurance which 
enabled these fearless and noble women, to walk un- 
flinchingly their thorny path with their eyes often 
turned towards the fiery trial of stake and fagot 
which threatened them. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

CATHERINE EVANS AND SARAH CHEEVERS CONTINUED. 

IN order that no means for the conversion of 
Catherine and Sarah should be left untried, the 
next step taken was of a different kind. To under- 
stand its force you must remember how coarse and 
scanty the prison fare was, and unlike that to which 
they had been accustomed. A friar bringing two fat 
hens came to Catherine's room and told her the 
lord inquisitor had sent them with his love. She 
answered, she would accept the love, but would 
rather pay for the hens, as she did not wish to be an 
expense to any one while she had money of her own. 
The friar would not listen to her refusal ; but when 
he found she was firm, charged her with pride in not 
being willing to take what was given to her in 
charity. 

"What kind of charity is this," said Catherine, 
" that keeps us in prison ? " 

"It is for the good of your souls," the friar re- 
plied. 

" Why should your love extend to us more than 
your own families? " said Catherine, " for they com- 
mit all manner of sin which you cannot charge us 

153 



154 The Home Circle. 

with doing. Why don't you put them in the in- 
quisition and bid them turn ? ! ' 

To this he had no answer to make except that she 
was not of the true faith. He left the room, but had 
not yet finished with regard to the hens. He now 
carried them to Sarah, whom he told that Catherine 
was sick, and the lord inquisitor having sent the 
chickens, Catherine would like her to dress one 
to-day and the other to-morrow, that she might have 
them to eat. Sarah, too, was circumspect. She 
would not trust the friar's word, and declined cook- 
ing the fowls until she knew more about them j so 
the friar carried them both away, saying: " You 
want to be burnt, because you would make the world 
believe that you did love God so well as to suffer in 
that kind." 

When Catherine afterwards heard this she re- 
marked : U I do not desire to be burnt ; but if the 
Lord should call me to it, I believe he would give 
me strength to endure it for his truth, and if every 
hair of my head was a body I could offer all up for 
the testimony of Jesus." 

At one time Sarah was offered her liberty if she 
chose to go and leave her friend alone in the prison 
whose walls separated them already. It seems in- 
credible that they should have kept so long their 
steady course unmoved, when threats and promises 
were so freely lavished. It is probable that the un- 
daunted spirit with which they met both, their 
talents and quiet wit, displayed in many an argument 



The Home Circle. 155 

held with the monks, together with their earnest de- 
votion, compelled admiration from those who perse- 
cuted them, so that they would have rejoiced over 
their conversion, and perhaps canonized them as 
saints. 

They were sometimes able to receive communica- 
tions from each other ; we are not told how, and can 
only suppose that at the time the account was writ- 
ten, from which this narrative is taken, it w T ould 
have been unsafe to tell. 

Once, a letter from Catherine to Sarah being in- 
tercepted, in which she mentioned, " it was much if 
they were not to be tempted with money," Catherine 
was asked if she wrote that letter 

" Yes," she replied. 

" Did you, indeed ? " said the monk. "And what 
did you say of me ? ' ' 

" Nothing but what was true," replied Catherine. 
Upon which the friar, unable to daunt her, tried to 
make her confess the channel by which their letters 
passed. He did not succeed ; for though she would 
speak of her own sentiments and actions without 
fear, she would not implicate another, only saying 
she had done " nothing but w T hat was just and right 
in the sight of God." 

Thus they suffered from time to time. Many per- 
sons came to see them who were touched by the 
truths which they used every opportunity for spread- 
ing, and their cases excited much interest, as they 
were now becoming widely known. An Englishman, 



156 The Home Circle. 

the master of a vessel which came from Plymouth, 
left money to be forwarded by the consul, which 
was first offered to Catherine, who refused to take it ; 
then to Sarah, who was equally unwilling to re- 
ceive it. 

Catherine said she valued the love and compassion 
which sent it, but she was living by faith. And 
when the consul asked what she would do, as she 
would receive no money, she answered : u The Lord 
is my portion, thus I cannot want any good thing." 
Sarah said she did not want the money, but if he had 
a letter for her she would receive that. He had no 
letter, but offered to get what else she needed, and 
she replied in the same spirit that Catherine did : 
" The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want for any 
good thing; but I do long for my freedom." 

Their supply of money was failing, and as they 
did not feel at liberty to eat prison food or to accept 
from other persons, they gradually eat less and less 
until they became very feeble. They sometimes 
fasted for several days together, until the monks 
said, "It is not possible for people to live upon so 
little." They were so weak at this time that they 
could not dress or undress, nor could they make 
their own beds. You may notice all through this 
narrative that always, when possible, they waited 
upon themselves, or one waited on the other ; in no 
way identifying themselves with the other prisoners, 
or allowing it was right they should be subject to the 
inquisition. Sarah thought herself dying, and de- 



The Home Circle. 157 

sired to be once more in the presence of her friend ; 
but this request was not granted, though the lord 
inquisitor said that she or Catherine might have 
anything either wanted to eat. The poor hungry 
women sent word that it was not in their own wills 
they fasted, and they must wait to know the mind 
of the Lord, what he would have them to do. In 
this extremity Catherine poured out her spirit in 
supplication to the Lord, that he might be pleased 
to put an end to their trials whatever way might 
seem good in his sight. In answer she seemed to 
hear a voice — a heavenly voice — which said, " You 
shall not die." 

Refreshed with joy and comfort at this manifesta- 
tion, they felt at liberty to eat such food as they 
received from the prison, yet exercising great care 
that they might not be led inadvertently to do 
wrong, their feeling being that they should not eat 
that which they had not paid for in work or money. 
Sarah had worked for others in the house beside 
Catherine. The kindness of the lord inquisitor 
lasted but a few days, after which they were again 
so "straitened" by the want of food that the 
monks thought they were kept alive by a miracu- 
lous power in order that they might become Cath- 
olics. 

Between these two devoted and loving women 

were five doors with locks and bolts, yet Sarah often 

found an opportunity, either by the carelessness of 

those in charge, or their connivance, perhaps, to 

H 



158 The Home Circle. 

come where she could see Catherine ; and no matter 
how closely she was watched, she often managed to 
get to Catherine's door at night. Once she was dis-< 
covered and locked up ; but not long after the doors 
were again open; so that they could see each other 
through a long range of rooms. 

They were not forgotten by the many Englishmen 
who came to Malta, some of whom endeavored to 
obtain their release. The magistrates, however, so 
far relaxed from their severities — probably in conse- 
quence of the entreaties of their countrymen — that . 
they granted permission for them to write to their 
friends, and furnished the necessary materials. 

Their letters are tenderly affectionate. Catherine 
writes to her family, commencing thus : 

" For the hands of John Evans, my right dear and 
precious husband, with my tender-hearted children, 
who are more dear and precious to me than the apple 
of mine eye." After addressing her husband in the 
most endearing terms, lavishing epithets of affection 
upon him, she goes on: "Most dear and faithful 
husband, friend and brother, I have unity and fel- 
lowship with thee day and night, to my great 
refreshment and continual comfort : praises, praises 
be given to our God for evermore, who joined us 
together in that which neither sea nor land can 
separate or divide. My dear heart, my soul doth 
dearly salute thee, with my dear and precious children, 
which are dear and precious in the sight of the Lord, 
to thy endless joy and my everlasting comfort. 



The Home Circle. 159 

Glory be to our God eternally, who hath called you 
with a holy calling and hath caused his beauty to 
shine upon you in this the day of his power, wherein 
he is making up his jewels, and binding up his 
faithful ones in the bond of everlasting love and 
salvation, among whom he hath numbered you of 
his own free grace." Her letters, though so precious 
to her husband and children — almost as precious as 
those from the dear ones we have lost by death would 
be to us — might not be interesting to you, my little 
readers ; but I may tell you there are no complaints 
of the terrible sufferings they are passing through : 
for these are sufferings of the body only, and are 
not to be compared with the consolations of the 
Spirit which accompany them. I will copy a little 
more ; for you know she must have had a great deal 
to say to the husband and the dear children that she 
had not seen for so many years, and thought of every 
day of her life. I should have liked to have seen the 
little ones with their earnest eyes raised to their father's 
face while he read their long-lost mother's letter. 

" My dear hearts, the promises of the Lord are 
large, and are all 'yea? and ' a?nen,' to those who 
fear his name ; he will comfort the mourners in 
Zion, and will cause the heavy-hearted in Jerusalem 
to rejoice, because of the glad tidings. They that 
do bear the cross with patience, shall wear the cross 
with joy ; for it is through long suffering and patient 
waiting the crown of life and immortality comes to 
be obtained. The Lord hath exercised my patience 



160 The Home Circle. 

and tried me to the uttermost, to his praise and my 
eternal comfort. In my deepest affliction, when I 
looked for every breath to be the last, I could not 
wish I had not come over the sea ; because I knew it 
was my eternal Father's will to prove me, with my 
dear and faithful friend. In all afflictions and 
miseries the Lord remembered mercy and did not 
leave nor forsake us, nor suffer his faithfulness to 
fail us, but caused the sweet drops of his mercy to 
distil upon us, and the brightness of his glorious 
countenance to shine into our hearts. O, how may 
I set forth the fulness of God's love to our souls ; no 
tongue can express it ; no heart can conceive it ) no 
mind comprehend it. O, the refreshment, the rap- 
ture, the glorious bright-shining countenance of our 
Lord God, who is our fulness in emptiness; our 
strength in weakness ; our health in sickness ; our 
life in death ; our joy in sorrow ; our peace in dis- 
quietude ; our praise in heaviness ; our power in all 
needs and necessities. He alone is a full God unto 
us, and to all that can trust him, who hath wholly 
built us upon the sure "foundation, the Rock of 
Ages, Christ Jesus, the light of the world, where the 
swelling seas, nor raging, foaming waves, nor stormy 
winds, though they beat vehemently, can be able to 
remove us. Glory, honor and praise is to our God 
forever. He did nourish our souls with the choicest 
of his mercies, and did feed our bodies with his good 
creatures, and relieve all our necessities in full 
measure. Praises, praises be to him alone, who is 



The Home Circle. 161 

our everlasting portion, our confidence, and our 
rejoicing ; whom we serve acceptably with reverence 
and godly fear. Oh, my dear husband and precious 
children, you may feel the issues of love and light 
which stream forth as a river to every one of you, 
from a heart that is wholly joined to the Fountain. 
My prayers are for you day and night without ceas- 
ing, beseeching the Lord God of power to pour down 
his tender mercies upon you, and to keep you in his 
fear, to increase your faith, to confirm you in all 
righteousness, to strengthen you in believing in the 
name of the Lord God Almighty, that you may be 
established as Mount Zion that can never be moved. 
Keep yourselves unspotted from the world; love 
one another with a pure • heart fervently ; serve 
one another in love ; build up one another in the 
eternal, and bear one another's burdens: and so 
fulfill the law of God. Dear hearts, I do commit 
you to the hands of the Almighty who dwelleth on 
high, and to the word of his grace in you, who is able 
to build you up to everlasting life and eternal salva- 
tion.' ' 

This was written in the inquisition, at Malta, in 
the Tenth month in 1661. 

Sarah Cheevers was no less affectionate, and no 
less devoted to the truth, perhaps, but Catherine 
seems to have had a superior education ; Sarah, how- 
ever, writes very well : 

" I cannot by pen and paper set forth the large 
love of God in fulfilling his gracious promises to me 



162 The Home Circle. 

in the wilderness : being put into prison for God's 
truth, there to remain all the days of my life, being 
searched, tried, and examined upon pain of death, 
among the enemies of God and his truth ; standing 
in jeopardy of my life, until the Lord had subdued 
and brought them under his mighty power and made 
them feed us and willing to give us money and 
clothes. But the Lord did deck our table richly in 
the wilderness," etc. 

In a letter to a friend, Catherine says, " The time 
is too little for me to disclose the twentieth part of 
the terrible trials ; but whensoever we were brought 
into any trial, the Lord did take away all fear from 
us, and multiplied our strength, and gave us power 
and boldness to plead for the truth of the Lord 
Jesus, and gave us wisdom of words to stop the gain- 
sayers, who would tell us, ' we had not the true faith, 
though we might have all the virtues.' Dearly beloved, 
pray for us, that we fall not nor fail, whereby our 
enemies will have any advantage to rejoice and say, 
' They served a God who could not save them, and 
called upon a God who could not deliver them.' 
We do beseech thee to tell all our dear friends, 
fathers and elders, the pillars of the spiritual build- 
ing, with all the rest of our Christian brethren, that 
we do desire their prayers, for we have need of 
them." 



CHAPTER XVII. 

REJOICING IN BONDS. 

THE Friends in England made many endeavors 
to procure their liberty. The consul who 
had been accessory to their imprisonment was dead, 
and another had been appointed to take his place, 
who, with the captain of a ship, Francis Stewart, 
endeavored to obtain their release. By this time it 
was not in the power of the authorities on the island 
to grant this — at least they said so — and an order 
must come from the Pope, which of course involved 
a long delay. 

Catherine and Sarah were brought before the 
council and asked if they were willing to go back to 
England: they replied, "Yes, if it were the will of 
.God we might." Captain Stewart, who was pres- 
ent, was so affected by the patience and simple, 
calm endurance of these worn and wasted women, 
that the tears came into his eyes when he was 
obliged to tell them that all his endeavors to obtain 
their freedom were in vain. "It is the inquisition 
that will not let you go free," he said. " You have 
preached among the people." He had offered to 
take them home in his own vessel and at his own 

* 6 3 



164 The Home Circle. 

expense, but the inquisitors had no mind to let them 
go. He offered them money for their private use, 
which, as usual, they refused to take. They related 
to him their sad tale of imprisonment and suffering, 
adding, " We cannot change our minds though they 
burn us to ashes." The friar drawing near, told the 
captain they would not work. This was not true, 
for they did work for themselves and others too ; but 
they reminded the friar that their work and business 
lay in England, to which place they would like to 
return. He admitted the fact ; but nevertheless, 
"though they had suffered long enough, and too 
long, they must wait until an order for their release 
came from the Pope." The captain, who saw in 
this evasion, a determination not to allow them to 
accompany him, prayed that the Lord might comfort 
them, since he could do nothing more ; while they, 
with feelings of deep gratitude towards the kind 
stranger who was periling his own life and freedom 
in their behalf, prayed the Lord to bless and pre- 
serve him unto everlasting life, and never let him go 
without a blessing for his love. He had no sooner 
left them than the inquisitor came up with the ap- 
pearance of great indignation, and they found them- 
selves treated worse than before, being ordered into 
close confinement. The taking away of their lives 
was again spoken of, and their doors were shut up 
for many weeks. The inquisitor came occasionally 
to the part of the tower where they were confined. 
Sarah called to him and desired the door to be 



The Home Circle. 165 

opened for them to go down into the court to wash 
their clothes. He then ordered the door to be set 
open once a week, and not long after it was open 
every day. Once when the inquisitor was there she 
said to him : " If we are the Pope's prisoners send us 
to the Pope; we appeal to him." But the desire of 
the friars and monks was to make them submit to 
them as well as to the Pope. In this close imprison- 
ment Catherine composed many little pieces, which 
were taken possession of by the monks and never 
returned. Some few of them found their way to 
England, one of which I copy. This she "joyfully 
sung" when she went to the well in the court-yard, 
where other poor prisoners could hear her. These 
prisoners were not accustomed to the use of cold 
water like Catherine and Sarah were, and when they 
saw them using it so freely in washing their head and 
clothes, and in drinking, would call out to them that 
they would kill themselves. There is not much 
poetical ability displayed in these strains ; but they 
show a sweet, contented state of mind, joyfully ac- 
cepting all tilings as from a Father's hand, which is 
far better and more to be desired. 

All praise to him who hath not put nor cast me out of mind, 
Nor yet his mercy from me shut, as I could ever find. 

Infinite glory, laud, and praise be given to his name, 

Who hath made known in these our days his strength and noble 

fame. 
Oh ! none is like unto the Lamb, whose beauty shineth bright. 
Oh ! glorify his holy name, hi-, majesty and might, 



166 The Home Circle. 

My soul, praise thou the only God, a fountain pure and clear, 
Whose crystal streams spread ail around and cleanseth far and 
near. 

The well-springs of eternity which are so pure and sweet 
And do arise continually my Bridegroom for to meet. 

My sweet and dear beloved one, whose voice is more to me 
Than all the glories of the earth or treasures I can see. 

He is the glory of my life, my joy and my delight; 
Within the bosom of his love he clasped me day and night. 

My soul, praise thou the Lord, I say; praise him with joy and 

peace. 
Spirit and mind, both day and night, praise him and never 

cease. 

Oh ! magnify his majesty, his fame, and his renown, 
Whose dwelling is in Zion high, the glory of his crown. 

Oh ! praises, praises to our God ; sing praises to our King. 
Oh ! teach the people all abroad his praises for to sing. 

A Zion song of glory bright that doth shine out so clear. 
Oh ! manifest it in the sight of nations far and near. 

That God may have his glory due, his honor and his fame, 
And all his saints may sing Amen, the glories of his name. 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

A GLIMPSE OF HOME. 

THE imprisonment was severe and the suffering 
great ; but there was a spiritual enjoyment, 
particularly with Catherine, which lifted her feelings 
above distress. She says that her joy and consola- 
tions were such, at times, that she was afraid to say 
anything or to speak one word, and that her own 
will was made so submissive that when she felt that 
she might ask and receive what she asked for, she 
could only say, "I desire nothing of the Lord but 
what shall be to his glory, whether it be liberty or 
bondage, life or death." 

We all desire to be happy. There are different 
kinds of happiness, and those persons who strive for 
the best must put away all selfishness and be ready 
to be anything or nothing, to do anything or nothing, 
just as the Lord wills. Some really do get into this 
state; their hearts are filled with love, all fear is 
taken from them ; they like to live, they like to die. 
They are not afraid of anything which may happen. 
And this is the consolation which Catherine experi- 
enced. She was separated from her husband and 
children ; she was half starved ; she was in a hot and 

167 



1 68 T he Ho m e Circle. 

filthy jail; she was among cruel people who said 
many evil things to her ; she was in constant expec- 
tation of being led to the stake to die a painful 
death. But all was made easy for her, and she says 
she could ask for nothing, she desired nothing, be- 
cause she loved her Heavenly Father so much, and 
felt his presence always near her. 

The reason why we do not attain this happy state 
is because we are not willing to begin by trying to do 
right in every little thing. If we do we shall be told 
more and more until we become like Catherine or 
like Daniel in the lion's den. God can take care of 
us everywhere, and will take care of us everywhere, 
if we obey him in every little particular; and he will 
teach us more and more until we too are raised above 
freedom or bondage, life or death. We are not to 
suppose that these dear women were always in this 
state of ecstatic enjoyment. Oh, no ! They were 
poor, frail human creatures just like us and as liable 
to temptation. Catherine shows a quiet wit which it 
must have been difficult to repress sometimes in the 
presence of her slower-minded judges. 

It was hard to continue patient when the friars and 
monks were always importuning them to change their 
religion, or at least comply with this or that trivial 
observance or form. It was hard to be found fault 
with, whether they worked, whether they read, 
whether they wrote, or whether they preached. 

Once when a friar reproached Catherine and 



The Home Circle 169 

asked her why she did not work, instead of answer- 
ing, she asked : 

"And what work dost thou do? ' 

He said, "I write." 

She replied, "If thou wilt give me pen, ink, and 
paper I also will write." 

He did not wish her to work in that way, and 
reminded her that St. Paul did work at Rome, and 
that she, by knitting, might earn three half-pence 
per day. 

She answered: "If we could have that privilege 
among you which Paul had at Rome under Caesar, 
who was a heathen prince, we would have wrought 
and not have been chargeable to any ; for he lived in 
his own hired house for two years, preaching the 
gospel and doctrine of the Lord Jesus Christ." 

When the friar spoke thus to Catherine he well 
knew that she and Sarah did not spend their time 
icily; they knit stockings and made garments and 
mended the clothes of other poor prisoners. Cer- 
tainly they would not work for the friars, who did 
not need they should. 

Sometimes the priests came into the room and, 
kneeling down, would try to persuade Catherine to 
follow their prayers, which of course she thought 
were prayers made in their own wills, upon which no 
blessing could rest. These persistent endeavors 
wearied her beyond measure, so that once she cried 
out, " It were better for me to die than to live thus ! " 
Generally she was able to bear all with patience and 
15 



170 The Home Circle. 

even cheerfulness. Once they told her that Sarah 
should be taken to Rome and she left at Malta. 
They told her this apparently with no intention 
other than of torturing her, as they knew that Cath- 
erine would lay down her life rather than be set at 
liberty to return to England without Sarah; but she 
had no means of knowing whether they told the 
truth or not. . 

When they had been in prison about three years, 
Daniel Baker, who was also a Friend, came to Malta 
on their account, and visited the inquisition in the 
hope of doing something towards obtaining their 
liberty ; the inquisitors themselves giving reason for 
these hopes, which were never realized, and never 
intended to be realized. Some obstacle always ap- 
peared, some difficulty interposed, and the applicant 
became wearied by the never-failing ability of the 
monks to find something which stood in the way. 
The truth was, they did not intend to let the victims 
of their iron grasp free, on any conditions short of 
slavish and entire submission. 

In the present case the inquisitors required that 
some English merchants, residents of Leghorn or 
Messina, should give a bond for four thousand dol- 
lars, to be paid if they — the women — ever returned 
to Malta after they were released. It is not likely 
that any Englich merchants, not of their own faith, 
would give that amount ; and even if they were 
willing to do so, the women would in no way bind 
themselves. They said, " they did not know but the 



The Home Circle. 171 

Lord might some time require of them to do so." 
When Daniel found all these efforts in vain, he gen- 
erously offered his own body to be imprisoned in 
place of theirs, or even his life in place of theirs ; 
both offers were declined. In the meantime he 
found a way to have letters delivered to them, and 
writing himself, exhorted them to steadfastness, and 
at length he found means to speak to them. He 
learned that they came to the gates of the prison 
occasionally, and there he watched and waited until 
he saw the fair faces and the calm, resolute bearing 
of two noble-looking Englishwomen amid the crowd 
of swarthy Italians clustering around. He might 
not approach nearer, but he knew they must be the 
women he sought, and raising his voice addressed 
them in their own language. It was not likely the 
guards would understand, but if they did Daniel 
Baker cared not. How gratefully the accents of 
their mother tongue must have fallen upon their 
ears, as their friend called to them, " The whole 
body of God's elect, right dearly beloved, ow r n your 
testimony, and ye are a sweet savor unto the Lord 
and to his people." One of the women said in re- 
turn : "It is a trouble to us that we are not more 
serviceable." A short interchange of sentiment, to 
be sure ; but the women had the unspeakable gratifi- 
cation of hearing they were not forgotten, but' still 
lovingly remembered with prayers among their own 
people. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

SET FREE. 

ABOUT six months after Daniel Baker's visit, it 
seemed to be " borne in" upon Catherine's 
mind, that if she could speak to the inquisitor again, 
he would grant the liberty that Sarah and she so 
greatly desired. It was not long before the oppor- 
tunity occurred. She was admitted to his presence, 
and pleaded her own cause and that of her friend — 
saying they had never wronged or defrauded any ; 
but had suffered innocently, almost four years, for 
conscience' sake. The inquisitor answered them 
courteously, saying he would send for the consul and 
get him to engage that five hundred dollars should 
be paid on their account if they ever came again to 
Malta; and in case the consul refused to do this, he 
would send to Rome, to get the Pope to set them at 
liberty, without any obligation on their part. 

A few days after this, the inquisitor, accompanied 
by his lieutenant, the chancellor, and others, came 
again ; and after some discourse, asked if they would 
return to their husbands and children, if it were the 
will of God ; to which they answered, such was 
their intention. The inquisitor then told them they ' 
172 



The Home Circle. 173 

were released, and taking his leave of them, cour- 
teously wished them a prosperous return to their 
own country — his example being followed by the 
magistrates and the inferior officers of the prison ; 
no one of whom asked for fees ; yet these poor wo- 
men, still having something of their own, bestowed 
it upon the keepers and upon some poor men whom 
they left in prison \ and so far were they from feel- 
ing any animosity towards those who had so bitterly 
persecuted them, that the first impulse after regaining 
their freedom was to kneel down and pray that this 
cruelty might never be laid to their charge, for they 
knew not how wrong it was. 

You would like to know the means by which they 
were freed, would you not ? They had never been 
forgotten by their English Friends ; one of whom, 
George Fox, called to see Lord D'Aubigne on their 
behalf. This nobleman was a Catholic, but liberal 
in his views, and tolerant of those who differed from 
him. To him George Fox represented the cases of 
Catherine and Sarah ; and knowing that his influ- 
ence was powerful, requested him to write to the 
magistrates in Malta, desiring their release. Lord 
D'Aubigne readily promised that he would do so, 
and added that if George would call at his house 
in about a month, he should hear of their dis- 
charge. 

George went at the time appointed, but there 
had come no answer to the letter ; and D'Aubigne 
promised he would write again, which he did, to 



174 The Home Circle. 

such purpose that the captives were released uncon- 
ditionally. 

It may be as well to copy a sentence from a let- 
ter, written by one Friend to another, during the 
period these women were in prison: " I have this 
further to certify concerning the two women Friends, 
Catherine Evans and the other ; that they are pris- 
oners in the inquisition in Malta ; for this morning 
we spoke with one Captain Harris, who was there, 
and endeavored very much to have them released, 
but to no purpose. He said they took shipping at 
Leghorn in a Dutch ship for Alexandria, and were 
put into Malta by contrary winds; where, going 
ashore, they dispersed some papers ; and thereupon 
the officers of the inquisition laid hold on them and 
confined them, first to the consul's house, till they 
could hear from Rome, where they sent for an order 
what to do with them, which, when it came, was 
that they should be put into the prison of the inqui- 
sition and lie there till they die. At first they were 
put in together, but after some time they were sepa- 
rated. He saith, when he was there they had been 
eight or nine months separated, and neither knew 
whether the other was alive or not ; but now he 
thinks they are together. He saith they have been 
there about twenty months. Captain Harris saith, 
that he himself did proffer to be bound in a five hun- 
dred pound bond, if they would release them and 
send them on board his ship ; but they would not 
accept; he would engage that they should never 



The Home Circle. 175, 

come within the Catholic dominions again. He 
made that offer unknown to the women, and he was 
not given the liberty of seeing them ; but the consul 
(since dead) went in and saw them. They were 
knitting, and he saw them have bread and water 
allowed them. He said he did believe they were in 
much want, though they said they were pretty well 
and contented, and wished him not to be troubled 
about them. At present there seems little likelihood 
of their releasement. ' ' 

When delivered from the prison, Catherine and 
Sarah were taken to the house of the consul, where 
they stayed eleven weeks before they could get a pas- 
sage home. While there, Catherine became impressed 
with the feeling >hat fearful calamities would fall 
upon Malta if she persisted in her iniquitous course ; 
and that repentance would still avail to avert the 
judgment. She wrote to the authorities, the grand- 
master and the governor ; but the consul was much 
displeased with the letter, and threatened Catherine 
with another imprisonment. He had reason to 
change his opinion \ for a short time after, there came 
a " terrible storm in which there was great thunder 
and lightning, which set on fire and blew up one 
of the powder-houses about a mile out of the city, 
and another powder-house was thrown down." In 
the city, houses were overthrown, glass windows in 
palaces broken, the doors lifted off of their hinges, 
etc. At the foot of the bed where these women lay, 
was a glass window which was blown in, but they 



176 The Home Circle. 

received no hurt. The house was shaken by the 
force of the wind; but " being given up to live or 
to die, their fear was soon taken from them and 
turned into joy in the Lord." They were so still 
and quiet, that when the consul came to their room 
in order to see after them, he did not know whether 
they were alive. While he was speaking, others 
came in to tell of the destruction in the city ; even 
the ships in the harbor had not escaped. Some days 
after this, Sarah had a similar impression, and spoke 
to the consul, who conveyed her message (similar to 
that of Catherine) to the magistrates, who admitted 
that "the women had a good intent, but were de- 
ceived. ' ' They appealed to their conduct hitherto — 
"was it likely that persons who lived as they did, 
could be deceived in this ? ' ' The message was un- 
welcome ; magistrate and monk alike turned from 
it; but the prediction came true, for punishment 
inevitably follows wilful sin. 

At length they were able to bid farewell to the 
island, upon whose shores they had landed so un- 
willingly, and where they did indeed drink of a 
"dreadful cup," as Catherine had foreseen. The 
Sapphire, a vessel commanded by Captain Titswell, 
took them on board, in company with some knights 
of Malta, among whom was a brother of one of the 
inquisitors who had had them so long in charge. He 
seems to have been a kind man, for he spoke to the 
captain with regard to making the women comforta- 
ble; and probably became somewhat tetter ae- 



The Home Circle. 177 

quainted with their views and opinions, for he told 
them, if they ever came to Malta again, they should 
not be persecuted; observing to the captain, "If 
they go to Heaven one way and we another, we shall 
all meet at last." A singular remark from a Catholic, 
and a singular remark for these times of bigotry 
and hatred. 

Arriving at Leghorn, they received great kindness 
from the English merchants there, who sent wine 
and other refreshments; and who offered money, 
also, but the last they were unwilling to accept. 
From thence they came to Tangier, which belonged 
to the king of England, as the marriage portion of 
his wife, Catherine of Braganza, daughter of the king 
of Portugal. The place was besieged by the Moors, 
yet Catherine and Sarah entered the town, and 
"many people came flocking to the house where 
they lodged,' 7 whom they boldly exhorted to depart 
from wickedness. They also went to the governor, 
who took their admonitions in good part, and 
promised to follow their counsel. He, too, would 
have given them money, but they would not accept 
it. He commanded that none of the garrison should 
abuse them by word or deed, on pain of severe pun- 
ishment, though some were ready enough to do so, 
probably the lower order of the Catholic population. 

They were inclined to go to the Moors ; but this 
the governor would not permit, telling them they 
must expect nothing from that savage people but 
bonds or a cruel death. They were not afraid, for 



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The Home Circle. 



they believed the Lord would still preserve them 
as he had hitherto done. When they were thus 
prevented, however, they believed the Lord had 
accepted the will, instead of the deed. 

By this time their reputation as holy women was 
so great, that several persons took shipping with 
them from a belief that on their account the passage 
would be safe. They met with storms and tempests, 
but at last landed on the English shores, there to 
meet the husbands and children from whom they 
had parted so many years ago. 




CHAPTER XX. 

THE CHILDREN ARE FAITHFUL. 

YOU will think, perhaps, that the trials and troub- 
les of these women were over, and that here in 
their own native country they could meet together, 
and worship according to their own consciences, in 
peace, with none to molest or make them afraid. It 
may have been so with Sarah Cheevers, of whom we 
have no further record. The name of Catherine 
Evans occurs among those of the women of Bristol 
w T ho were taken from a religious meeting held there, 
and thrown into prison. The account runs thus : 

" After most of the men at Bristol, who were called 
Quakers, had been shut up in prison, the women who 
continued to keep up the meetings were also seized, 
so that at length few, but the children who had re- 
mained with the servants in the houses of their 
parents, were left free. Among these women, Cath- 
erine Evans is mentioned. And her children, taught 
by the unfaltering resolution of their mother, were 
probably among that little band, all under sixteen 
years of age, who met to worship in public, while 
the parents suffered in prison. The children kept 
up the religious meetings as much as lay in their 

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power. It is true they, as minors, were not within 
the reach of the law, w T hich carried the parents away 
from their homes, and threw them into dungeons 
and gloomy cells ; but if they had been, they had 
the spirit of martyrs, and would have borne pain 
and privation as bravely as their fathers and mothers. 
Nineteen of them were taken to the house of correc- 
tion in defiance of law, kept there for some time, 
and threatened with whipping if they returned to 
the meeting. They, like their parents, were undis- 
mayed ; and though they suffered exceedingly from 
the cruel and wicked rabble, when the law should 
have protected their tender years, they continued to 
keep up their meetings ; and taking no notice of the 
insolence and reproach which they constantly re- 
ceived, they continued steadfast to the faith, as 
became the "children of light." 

Catherine Evans was imprisoned several times in 
England — continuing faithful through all her trials 
and sufferings. She died in 1692 ; or rather, she 
entered into that life of which St. John says, "And 
God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and 
there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor 
crying, neither shall there be any more pain : for 
the former things have passed away." 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Charley's home. 

THE winter was almost over, and Mary Stewart 
was now occupied in preparing for her own 
home. Her friend, Charles Hilton, was a farmer, 
owning the place upon which he lived. It had been 
in the occupancy of the Hilton family for more than 
a hundred years ; its fertile fields, its even, well-kept 
hedges, denoting careful cultivation. The ground 
was rolling, and on the top of a hill stood the man- 
sion house, fronting south ; much of the material of 
which it was built was brought from England, and 
• there was still on the staircase a small window, the 
panes of which were set in lead. An ample lawn 
sloped away towards a rich meadow. On the north 
side was a piazza running the whole length of the 
house, and a few steps from it, a never-failing spring 
of the most delicious water gushed into a trough 
placed for that purpose. Great trees grew all around 
except towards the south, and there lay the garden 
in the full light of the sun. The barn was beyond 
the garden ; the road passing around the latter led 
from the highway to the out-house. There were 
acres upon acres of woodland on this old place ; tall 
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182 The Home Circle. 

trees that were there when the Indian stealthily 
trod the war-path, and, below their green leaves, 
the brooks, at which the savage braves had stopped 
to slake their thirst, still ran merrily on. The bear 
and the wolf had long since disappeared, and the 
wild deer had forsaken his haunts ; but opossums, 
raccoons, foxes and rabbits were still to be found. 
A short distance from the house was an immense 
spreading white oak, its branches each as large as 
an ordinary tree. Immense as it was, an enor- 
mous grape-vine threw its luxuriant arms around 
and covered it with the most delicious fruit. Edward 
Hilton's grandfather remembered it as a great tree 
when he was a boy, and that people used to come in 
their carts from miles around to get the grapes, 
which were small and sweet. 

In the eyes of the little girls, the garden was the 
crowning glory of the place. The mother of Charles 
Hilton had been very fond of flowers, and Charles, 
though he knew little about them, kept them in some 
kind of order for her sake, whom he had lost two 
years ago. 

He had taken all four, Rebecca, Jane, Lizzie, and 
Patty, to spend a day the preceding summer, and 
they were never tired of talking about the evergreen 
box bush standing near the gate, and large enough 
to fill a room, and of the red velvet-rose, the white 
rose, and the large damask rose, scenting the air 
with perfume, the snow-ball bush, which was just out 
in bloom, the peony, the white lily, the johnny-jump- 



The Home Circle. 183 

tips, the bachelor's buttons, and the mourning widow. 
They were too late to see the great bed of tulips and 
hyacinths, which Charles described to them, and 
which they were sure must be "splendid " when all 
in bloom together. 

Charles seemed to be easily adopted by all of 
Mary's family; he had been acquainted with them 
ever since he could remember, having visited at the 
house with his mother, when he was no larger than 
Eliy. Mary's mother had been "bridemaid" to 
his own mother. Charles was an especial favorite 
with Elly, who knew him better than he did either 
of his three absent brothers, and felt on terms of 
equality with him, as well as friendship. He would 
climb into "Charley's" lap, and rummage pockets 
that were not often empty : there was a never-failing 
supply of apples, round and rosy as Elly's own cheeks, 
and often a piece of white sugar, smuggled in, 
because Mary Stewart did not like her little boy to 
eat the colored candies so temptingly displayed in 
tall glass jars at the village confectioner's. Charley 
compromised the matter for his little friend, who 
was never rude, and generally obeyed at once, if 
desired to do anything. He never suspected that 
this friend who so kindly brought apples and sugar, 
and told him such beautiful stories about cows and 
sheep, intended taking away his sister. The girls 
all knew, and had quite brought their minds to it, 
every one of them thinking how delightful it would 
be to have two homes, and Charles for a brother — a 



184 The Home Circle. 

brother who would stay at home with them, and 
allow them to see for themselves the wonderful 
horses, cows, sheep, the old dog "Sappho," and 
the young dog "Neptune," and some day they 
might even see a wood-chuck looking out of his 
hole. 

One reason why Charles was so fascinating to the 
children was, that he was something of a natural- 
ist, and his habits of close observation enabled him 
to detect any peculiarity at once, so that he knew 
and was interested in the traits of the domestic 
animals, and could describe the character of each. 
Thus, he told the children, that when a new cow is 
purchased, she is obliged to take rank according to 
her courage and ability, as the old cows will fight 
her in succession until she falls into her proper place. 
It sometimes takes a series of battles, before they 
decide to which the supremacy or leadership of the 
herd belongs. 

He told them of " Primrose," a dark red cow, who 
would not upon any consideration allow another to 
precede her as they walked into the barn-yard. She 
ran past the gate again and again instead of entering ; 
he called to the boy who was driving her to turn 
"Blossy" out (she had remained in on account 
of indisposition), which being done, "Primrose," 
only stopping to give "Blossy" a little hitch with 
her horn as she went by, walked in immediately. 
You see she was proud, would not "walk be- 
hind." How much that is like some of us ! One 



The Home Circle. 185 

of his stories was about two hens, sisters, and inti- 
mate friends. They could not and would not be 
separated. If you saw one, you might look for the 
other : it would be sure to be close by. They ram- 
bled over the farm and took their walks and meals 
together. At length they wanted to set, and, in con- 
sideration of their feelings, a long box was provided 
with a nest full of eggs at each end. This arrange- 
ment suited them exactly, and they amicably took 
possession. They hatched their chickens at the same 
time ; but maternal love proved too strong for friend- 
ship, and they started off in different directions to 
scratch for their broods, after which they never 
seemed to care for each other. 

" Didn't they, after the little chickens grew up ? " 
asked Patty. 

a Iam afraid not," replied Charles. 

And Patty stopped to think a while, then raised 
her eyes. 

"I would like to see 'Primrose' and the two 
hens." 

She asked Charles if there were any kittens at his 
house ; he could not help being amused with her 
earnest face and tone, by which it was evident she 
attached a good deal of importance to the answer. 
He gravely replied, however, that he was glad to 
say he had two very fine cats, named c ' Castor ' ' and 
"Pollux," twins, and black, so black that he could 
scarcely distinguish one from the other, only he 
thought the little white spot on the bosom of " Cas- 



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tor" was rather larger than that on the bosom of 
" Pollux," and that Aunt Betsy (the cook, who had 
lived with his mother, and since her death, with 
him) said they were "proper, nice cats," and he 
had no doubt they were. 

" I'm glad of that," said Patty. " If I was shut 
up in prison, like Catherine Evans and Sarah 
Cheevers, I should like to have some kittens to play 
with. I wonder whether the man with the black 
rod would let me." 

Charles thought Patty was getting out of her 
depth, and turned the conversation by asking about 
her lessons, and she informed him that she had got 
as far as the " Lamb," 



CHAPTER XXII. 

MONTHLY MEETINGS. 

YOU know we have monthly meetings, but 
perhaps all do not know their object, nor 
how they originated. 

They were established in the early days of our 
society — many of them, by George Fox, in 1666. 
The Friends', oppressed by enemies without, and 
often injured by the injudicious partisanship of men 
of unsound principles within, organized themselves 
into a body, the better to assist each other, and, as 
the discipline expresses it, " also for the exercise of 
a tender care over each other, that all may be pre- 
served in unity of faith and practice," answerable to 
the description which he, the ever-blessed Shepherd, 
gave of his flock : " By this shall all men know that 
ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another. " 

The "Monthly Meeting" is the executive branch 
of this body, transacting most of the business. It 
may have one " Preparative ' ' meeting (that is, a 
meeting to prepare and present the business), or it 
may have several belonging to it, according to the 
demands of the neighborhood. The "Monthly 
Meeting" takes cognizance of marriages, births and 

187 



188 The Home Circle. 

deaths, keeping accurate accounts of each ; of the 
moral obligations of its members; and of a due 
observance of what are called the " Testimonies " of 
Friends. It is also, or ought to be, the guardian of the 
helpless, the afflicted, and the orphans. The women 
have an apartment of their own, where they transact 
their business independently, referring to the men 
as the head of the body where united action is 
necessary. 

Charles Hilton and Mary Stewart belonged to the 
same monthly meeting, before which they proceeded 
to lay their intentions of marriage with each other 
in- the following manner: The usual business having 
been transacted, both meetings were notified there 
was a "presentation of marriage " on the table, and 
a man was sent into the women's apartment to see 
if they were ready to receive it. The answer was 
affirmative, and Mary Stewart walked up to the gal- 
lery, accompanied by a few of her young friends, 
and took her seat by her mother, who was already 
there, leaving room by her side for Charles and who- 
ever might accompany him. There was silence for 
a few minutes, broken only by the sound of men's 
feet on the other side of the partition which sepa- 
rated the two apartments. The door slowly opened, 
and Charles, accompanied by his uncle, David Hil- 
ton, an old man with white hair, entered and took 
his seat beside Mary. Another silence so intense 
that a pin was heard to fall, and every eye in the 
meeting was fastened on the young couple. Charles 



The Home Circle. 189 

and Mary arose, and Charles taking Mary's tremb- 
ling hand in his firm grasp, said, in a clear manly 
voice, "With Divine permission and Friends' appro- 
bation, I intend marriage with Mary Stewart; " then 
Mary, in a lower voice, but still clear and distinct, 
repeated the same form of words, "With Divine 
permission and Friends' approbation, I intend mar- 
riage with Charles Hilton." They sat down quietly 
and all again was silent. After a short interval, 
Charles and Mary, Mary's mother and "Uncle 
David," rose and went into the men's meeting, 
where they declared their intentions in the same 
manner. The men escorted the women back to 
their meeting and returned to their own, where 
they resumed their seats and the business went on. 

This was now to appoint "some suitable Friends 
to inquire into the clearness" of the young people 
from similar engagements, and to see there was no 
just cause that the marriage should not take place. 

It was not likely that a young man and young 
woman brought up and educated as Charles Hilton 
and Mary Stewart had been, earnest and true, know- 
ing each other, and each other's surroundings so 
well, should need supervision or advice, more than 
they already received ; but the rules of discipline are 
for all and do not bear hardly upon any. They are 
intended particularly for the benefit of those who 
have not had the same advantages, and the meeting 
only desires to exercise the authority and tender 
care of a parent towards his children in endeavoring 



190 The Home Circle. 

to discourage connections which are unsuitable and 
likely to lead to unhappiness. 

That this authority and care have been useful, no 
one can doubt who has studied the records of our 
society, which testify that the pure and real affection 
among its married members is not exceeded by that 
of any other. 

On the present occasion, David Hilton, the uncle 
who accompanied Charles, and Joseph Dunhower 
were appointed on the part of the men; Elizabeth 
Tudor and Grace Sidney on the part of the women. 

These friends were invited to dine at the house of 
Ellwood Stewart, in company with others, among 
whom were the young women who sat by Mary at 
meeting, and were expected to officiate as bride- 
maids, and their duties commenced immediately. 
So that you may be sure there was a merry bustle in 
the house for some weeks. Charles's house was well 
supplied already ; but Mary thought she would like 
to furnish two or three rooms according to her own 
fancy, and these were still to be arranged. 

The linens, of which an ample store was always 
kept in the house of a "well-to-do" Friend, were 
spun, woven, and bleached years before, and now 
were all ready. Table-cloths, napkins, sheets, and 
pillow cases reposed in snowy whiteness in the 
drawers of an old-fashioned bureau or case which 
reached almost from floor to ceiling. Mary remem- 
bered well when she could only reach the "little 
drawer" by standing on tip-toe. The coverlets, 



The Home Circle. 191 

made of small pieces of calico or silk of different 
patterns, were quilted, and everything that could be 
finished was duly attended to and put in order 
beforehand. But the wedding-dresses were to be 
made, the invitations consulted over, written and 
issued, the dinner planned and provided for, and 
cakes of various kinds were to be made. The guests, 
friends of the family, were arriving and departing — 
so that a pleasant bustle was apparent nearly all the 
time, and Mary had no more leisure for turning over 
the leaves of the old books. 

I cannot describe the wedding presents by reason 
of there being none to describe, except a large Bible, 
handsomely bound, presented to Mary by David 
Hilton. 




CHAPTER XXIII. 

A NEW HOME. 

AT the next monthly meeting, the clerks read the 
" minutes ' ' of the last, pausing after each, and 
when a reply was needed sitting down so as to allow 
an opportunity for its being made. In the men's 
meeting the clerk read thus : 

" Charles Hilton and Mary Stewart having laid 
their intentions of marriage with each other before 
this meeting, and having the consent of surviving 
parents, Daniel Hilton and Joseph Dunhower are 
appointed to make the usual inquiries with regard to 
the clearness of the young man from similar engage- 
ments, and report to the next meeting. ' ' The clerk 
then sat down, and Joseph Dunhower rising, said, 
"We have made some inquiry and see nothing to 
obstruct." 

Then the clerk stood upon his feet again, and said, 
" Will the meeting name some Friends to have the 
oversight of this marriage ? " 

Another pause, and then another voice was heard, 

" I was thinking the same Friends might be con- 
tinued;" there was no dissent from this, and the 
same Friends were "continued." 
192 



The Home Circle. 193 

In the women's meeting, the minute was gone 
through with in the same way. Elizabeth Tudor 
and Grace Sidney gave the same report of Mary ; 
that they saw nothing in the way of her proceeding 
in marriage with Charles Hilton ; and they were 
both appointed to oversee the marriage, to which 
they had already received invitations, written on 
small cards with embossed borders — the writing 
small, too, but very neat. 

Mary Stewart and Charles Hilton 
request the company of HENRY Tudor and 
wife, to dine at Ell wood Stewart's, on 
$th day, 4th month, 23d, 18 — . 

At that time the country was not very thickly 
settled, and families lived at a distance from each 
other and from the meeting-house. It was the cus- 
tom to send a card of invitation to a young man, 
and with it, one for him to carry to a young woman. 
When he gave it to her he was expected to ask if she 
would accept his escort, and if she answered in the 
affirmative, it was his duty to provide a suitable con- 
veyance and take charge of her whenever necessary 
during the time of the wedding festivities, which 
might, and often did, last several days. 

The 23d of the 4th month had come. The morning 
was clear and bright, and all were awake early. The 
rooms had been prepared the day before, but the 
weather was just cool enough to render a blazing 
fire upon the hearth comfortable. It looked so 
cheerful, too. After breakfast Mary retired to her 



194 The Home Circle. 

own chamber, where her mother, her sisters and her 
bridemaids called upon her very often ; the little 
girls, particularly, who could not tie a ribbon with- 
out consulting her. Sarah, the sister next her in 
years, had only returned from school after a long 
absence. She sat prim and dignified, feeling so shy 
that she scarcely knew how to take her proper place 
in her father's house. She had never attended a 
wedding before, and was afraid of saying or doing 
something that would not be considered exactly 
right in the eyes of her young associates. She was 
growing very fast, and the poor child felt scarcely 
accustomed to her own size. Elly did not even 
know her. This state of things was soon remedied, 
as she was not sent back, but remained at home to 
grow into the place of her oldest sister. 

About eight o'clock the guests began to arrive. 
Some of them lived at such a distance that they 
wished to change their dresses for something more 
suitable for the occasion. 

For this purpose they went into a warm room 
appropriated to their use, and in a few minutes it 
was full of chat, with many little peals of laughter 
half subdued, for this going to meeting and saying 
the solemn words in a large assembly was a serious 
matter even to their light hearts, and one after an- 
other declared she "never would be married by 
meeting," and she " never could stand up before so 
many people," and that she "never could get the 
words out of her mouth." But I may as well men- 



The Home Circle. 195 

tion that most of them lived to change their minds, 
and when the time came felt themselves duly pre- 
pared, while their bridemaids and young com- 
panions in turn declared they "couldn't" and 
"wouldn't," after which they generally did. 

The description of the bride's dress will answer 
for all her attendants and maiden friends, who, like 
herself, were very sweet and pretty to look at. 

Mary wore a Canton crape of pearl color, delicate 
and pure. It was made with a narrow skirt and 
short waist, low in the neck, and finished off with a 
ruffle called a tucker. A small, thin India muslin 
cape was worn outside, through which the folds of the 
tucker were seen. The sleeves were short, and she 
wore long white kid gloves, which covered her arms. 
Her hair, soft and smooth, was covered with a cap 
assumed in token of matronly dignity, and over this 
a plain silk bonnet of the same delicate hue as her 
dress was worn. Her slippers were also light-col- 
ored, and as Charles handed her into the carriage 
he thought he had never seen a fairer woman, and 
wondered at his own happiness. As he drove off 
the others followed in quick succession — one gig 
rolling out after another, resplendent with shining 
fixtures, and drawn by the finest horses, the young 
men piquing themselves upon their handsome turn- 
outs. The father and mother, with the children, and 
some elderly Friends, had already gone on and were 
seated in the meeting-house when the wedding party 
arrived 



196 The Home Circle. 

Two or three colored men were there to take 
charge of the horses, and after the gigs had driven 
up and the company alighted, Charles, with Mary's 
hand on his arm, walked in the open door and along 
the aisle until he came to the front benches, where 
his uncle David and Mary's father and mother were 
sitting, on the lower bench of the gallery facing the 
meeting. Handing Mary to a seat next her mother, 
he sat down beside her. In the meantime the com- 
pany, following in the same order, took their seats, 
the bridemaids and groomsmen opposite the bride 
and groom, the rest on the benches behind the 
" waiters." The meeting became very still — almost 
painfully so to some of the younger members — only 
interrupted now and then by a sudden rustle as some 
inadvertent movement among the wedding guests 
startled the rest with the idea that the ceremony was 
about to begin. At last Charles taking Mary's 
hand, they rose and stood together. Charles then 
said the solemn words which bound their lives 
together : 

" In the presence of the Lord and this assembly I 
take Mary Stewart to be my wife, promising, with 
Divine assistance, to be unto her a faithful and affec- 
tionate husband until death shall separate us." 

Then Mary said, in a low, clear voice : 

"In the presence of the Lord and this assembly I 
take Charles Hilton to be my husband, promising to 
be unto him a faithful and affectionate wife until 
death shall separate us." 



The Home Circle. 197 

This was all, and they were married. After they 
sat down there was a general rustle of relief, and 
silence again ensued, broken by an aged and tremu- 
lous voice, whose work was almost done, that spoke 
a few words of cheer, comfort, and encouragement 
to those who seemed to be just beginning life ; end- 
ing with the words: " Once I was young and now 
am I old, but never have I seen the righteous for- 
saken or his seed begging bread." Another pause; 
then two of the groomsmen went over to the side of 
the meeting-house and brought a small table which 
had been placed there for the purpose, and put it 
before the groom ; the ink and the pen were also in 
readiness, and the newly-made husband signed his 
name to the marriage certificate spread before him — 
Charles Hilton; and immediately below that the 
wife signed hers — Mary Hilton. The table was set 
aside and the certificate of marriage read aloud by 
one of the Friends who had been previously asked to 
assist at the ceremony. It was then placed on the 
table again, in order that any one of the assembly 
might sign his or her name before it was taken 
home to Mary, to whom it would belong. The wed- 
ding company rose, the rest of the people present 
waiting until they had passed out ; the horses were 
brought, and the merry procession made its way back 
to Ellwood Stewart's, where several tables were ready, 
covered with an ample supply of provisions for the 
many guests. 

Would you like to know what they had for dinner 



198 The Home Circle. 

and supper ? Well, they had turkeys, roast beef and 
chickens, with vegetables of different kinds. The 
butter was shaped into fanciful forms and decorated 
with the beautiful green leaves of curled parsley, 
which had been sown and nursed in the kitchen 
window for this very purpose. They had pies and 
custards without limit. Also tea and coffee, with 
the richest of cream to put in them. They had 
large pound cakes, made of fresh butter and fresh 
eggs, by the hands of the bridemaids, and small 
cakes of different varieties. They had loaves of fresh 
bread baked in the great oven, and muffins, waffles, 
and buns; "preserved" fruits, but no canned — it 
was before the time of canned fruits— nor had they 
any iced cream ; but never having been accustomed to 
these luxuries, they did not miss them. And these 
good things were served upon dainty old china, real 
Chinese porcelain ; the willow tree, the bridge, the 
runaway lovers on it, with the angry father pursuing, 
and the doves into which the lovers were turned, all 
pictured on every piece. 

And one of the best things that happened was, 
that all the poor people of the neighborhood were 
invited and felt great freedom to go to " Miss Mary's 
wedding," where, after the first dinner was over, a 
table was set for them, and they ate and drank 
heartily, carrying home a goodly share to the old 
people and children who were not able to come, so 
that all rejoiced together. 

The young people kept together for several days, 



The Home Circle. 199 

going with Mary to her new home and assisting in 
her little arrangements for its comfort. You may be 
sure they had amusement enough, though music and 
dancing were not looked upon favorably. Some 
among them had very sweet voices, and Burns was a 
great favorite, so that it was not to be expected 
they should always refrain from singing. "Ye 
Banks and Braes of Bonny Doon" was some- 
times heard, but never when any one was likely to 
object j for in those days youth treated old age with 
reverence. 

The older members of the party enjoyed them- 
selves also. They recalled the incidents of their 
youth, relating many which happened in the days, 
gone by, before the country was well settled. Some 
memories ran back to the " Revolution," when the 
"Friends" were exposed alike to the depredations 
of either party, and were thought entitled to the 
protection of none on account of their unwillingness 
to take up arms. Many of these "Friends" had 
conversational powers of a high order, cultivated by 
their manner of living. They had habits of close 
observation, and what they knew they knew thor- 
oughly. They allowed themselves to be led by no 
man; the very form of their church discipline tending 
to this independence. Fond of reading, vigorous in 
expression, they had a quaint, racy fashion of speech 
that rendered their talk very agreeable. A knot of 
young people was always around them, and one could 
scarcely spend ten minutes in their company without 



200 The Home Circle. 

hearing something worth remembering. The very- 
fact that they were driven in upon themselves, and 
repulsed by others, gave them a warmer and more 
unselfish love for each other, and one could scarcely 
help improving in a society that knew nothing of 
expediency when separated from right. 



THE END. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



IllPllllll II !! Ill HIM 

022 216 778 4 



